


Once More with Feeling

by Chicken_Train_And_Laser_Beam



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Basically a telenovela in disguise, Drama, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, emotional and political consequences of time travel, not your mama's time travel fic, wildly long chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2019-12-26 03:49:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 137,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18275171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chicken_Train_And_Laser_Beam/pseuds/Chicken_Train_And_Laser_Beam
Summary: After an unexpected turn on a mission with Team Seven, Kakashi Hatake wakes up in the past, trapped in the body of his thirteen-year-old self. Despite being torn away from his own, familiar world, Kakashi resolves to change the future to better the lives of those he loves. Yet, fate is not so easily mastered, and he's not the only one playing the game.





	1. Blame it on Things that Shouldn't Be Touched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, y'all, and welcome to our story! We're Chicken Train and Laser Beam—a pair of sisters who decided to co-create a serious, canon-compliant, time travel fanfiction. This story is cross-posted from FFN. We'll be posting chapters here once a month until it's caught up with FFN, and then once new chapters come out, we'll release them simultaneously. There's a couple of other things we want to note, but those can wait until the end of the chapter. So, without further ado...

**Chapter 1:**

**Blame it on Things that Shouldn't be Touched  
**

**AKA**

" **Enterlude" by The Killers**

(Why Six is Afraid of Five)

When Kakashi Hatake heard Tsunade kick in his front door shortly after nine, he wasn't the least bit surprised. In fact, he had been expecting this act of breaking-and-entering for several hours now and had a cup of sake waiting for her.

Kakashi fully took over the Hokage position four years ago, relieving Tsunade of her bureaucratic burdens. Finally free again, she avoided politics like the plague. Between keeping an eye on the hospital and getting back in touch with her love of gambling, she kept herself busy enough to dodge any requests for favors or advice.

On occasion, however, she would disagree with some of the choices he made as the Sixth Hokage. When word of these incidents got around to her, she would break into his house and berate him until they were both far more stressed than when they began.

The first time, after Kakashi had made an admittedly poor diplomatic decision regarding the Land of Lightning, she threw his dining table at his face. His reflexes were plenty fast enough to dodge it, but the table itself hit the back wall and shattered into thousands of splintered pieces. Since then, through a process of trial and error, he found that a glass of alcohol could placate her into sparing his furniture.

In the same way that Kakashi used aloofness and distance to deal with problems, Tsunade used her near-endless supply of anger. He tried not to hold it against her, for Tsunade's wrath had done a surprising number of good things for the world, but he did wish their interactions were a little less volatile.

Tonight, however, she did not immediately storm into the kitchen and start screaming or throwing things, her blonde pigtails whipping around like cyclones behind her. With an unusual amount of somberness and composure, she walked inside the room as calmly as if he had invited her in and took a seat at the empty space across from him. A whirlwind of thoughts were blowing to and fro behind her amber eyes, but her face was tightly locked in a neutral expression.

It was, in a way, far more terrifying than her being angry. He knew she must have been afraid, for he was afraid himself, so for her to have reached a level of stone-cold fear that even anger could not push aside did not make their situation seem any less bleak.

"So," she said, taking the glass but not drinking from it. "I take it the reconnaissance squad did _not_ bring good news?"

Earlier in the day, word had trickled in of suspicious happenings at the Valley of the End. So, he had sent a group of Jōnin to gather intel.

"They were unable to approach the Valley," said Kakashi. "Due to, what they described as, an 'evil presence.'"

Tsunade raised an eyebrow as she traced the circular edge of her glass with her pointer finger. "Evil presence?"

"Specifically," he said, picking up one of the pieces of paper in front of him and handing it across the table to her. The writing on the paper was messy, nearly unreadable, due to the emotional distress of its author. "This is the mission report that Kenshin Yamanaka, the leader of the squad, gave me."

Accepting the piece of paper, Tsunade cleared her throat.

"'It was like being possessed,'" she read aloud. "'As we approached the Valley of the End, and evil presence began to take over us. Every fear, every regret, every dark thought we'd ever had pushed to the forefront of our minds.

"'Some of us handled it better than others, but we all found it increasingly hard to press forward as we got closer to the Valley. Eventually, a few members of the squad snapped and began to attack the rest of us. They were completely dazed over and did not respond to reason. Once we managed to subdue them, I deemed the mission too risky to continue.

"'Once we got far enough away from the Valley, the presence began to dissipate and the violent spell that took ahold of our teammates faded away. They could remember attacking the rest of us, but they could not remember why and were remorseful. Though we could not finish the mission, we were able to determine that the cause of the evil presence was not a sentient being or a genjutsu.'"

Looking no less confused than when she started reading, Tsunade handed the paper back to Kakashi. "Well," she said. "That's…different."

Nodding, he shuffled the piece of paper back into his stack and gently tapped them on the table several times to realign them. It gave him something to do while he waited for her to speak.

"So, I take it you're assuming the worst?" she said. "That this has something to do with Kaguya?"

"Would you assume any different, given the location?" he asked.

"No," she admitted. "But what I would _not_ do—" She stood up and slammed her hands on the table, finding the strength to be angry at last. "—is send Team Seven, yourself included, on a mission to the Valley of the End _tonight_."

"If this does have something to do with Kaguya, we can't afford to waste any time."

"This sure as hell could wait thirty-six hours, Kakashi. Send a team to stand guard in the meantime—"

"So they can stand around until they attack each other?" asked Kakashi, growing irritated. "You know as well as I do that we can't afford to take any chances. _In case you've forgotten_ , the last time Kaguya showed up, she nearly enslaved the entire world."

"In case _you've_ forgotten, tomorrow—"

"I know what tomorrow is," he said, standing too. He understood her parental protectiveness of tomorrow, because he felt it too, but he couldn't let that get in the way of making the right decision for Konoha. "You're not the only one who cares about Sakura. I'll have all three of them back by tomorrow morning."

"You'd better," she said. "Because if you make Sakura and Sasuke miss their own wedding, I'm going to kill you."

Kakashi didn't doubt it.

"I understand that Naruto and Sasuke have to go," she said, as if trying to talk herself into the plan. "In case something—or someone—needs to be sealed. But why send you and Sakura? If you both stay here, you can look after the village like you're supposed to and Sakura can take care of any last minute wedding details in the morning."

"Sakura is not going to be willingly left behind."

"And you?"

"If you think that looking after the village for a few hours is outside your realm of capability," he said. "I can find someone else to do it."

"You're dodging the question."

She wasn't wrong. "Six years ago," he said. "The four of us managed to stop Kaguya. If this does have something to do with her, the four of us are the most likely to do it again."

"That's such _bullshit_ ," she said, knocking her glass of sake to the floor, causing it to rupture into a million little, glass shards. "You're going along because you're afraid that something is going to happen to them and you don't want to feel responsible or be left behind if it does."

"And what would you be doing?" he asked coldly. "If you were in my place?"

"No one's ever said that I make good emotional decisions." She looked at him sharply. "But you'resupposed to be better than that. We're _both_ supposed to be better than that."

Tsunade and Kakashi were quite similar, really: both of them, at one point, had lost the people they cared about most and blamed themselves for it, both had proceeded to become shells of their former selves for over a decade, both had been snapped out of it by Naruto Uzumaki, and both had somehow stumbled their way into the Hokage position. Konoha—and by some extension, the entire world—looked up to them as two of the greatest ninja of their time.

However, when in the company of just each other, it was easy for them to remember that they were _not_ the unshakeable pillars of strength and wisdom that Konoha saw them as—the legendary Fifth and Sixth Hokage. In the quiet dark of Kakashi's kitchen, they were just as lost as everyone else, a mirror for the other's failures and insecurities, wondering how the hell they ended up as the best candidates for Hokage.

"Maybe we aren't better than that," he said.

"Maybe," she agreed.

The fight seemed to leave them all at once, and for several moments, neither of them said anything. There was still an uncomfortable tenseness in the room, but it had less to do with their quarrel and more to do with the threat of Kaguya slinking around in the shadows. Despite Tsunade's eternal youth, Kakashi was struck by how _old_ she looked. There was a haunted, weary look in her eyes that betrayed that Tsunade was three times the age of her physical appearance. Kakashi, at only thirty-seven, was starting to think of himself as old and worn, and he wondered how Tsunade viewed herself.

"Would you like another drink?" he asked, unsure of what else to offer her.

"Yeah," she said, collapsing in her chair. "Just bring me the bottle."

He did as she asked. Gratefully, she raised the bottle to him in cheers and took a long drink.

"Where are they?" asked Tsunade. "Team Seven?"

"At a bar on the eastern end of town with their friends," said Kakashi, taking a seat himself. The Konoha Eleven had a tradition, the night or so before one of them was to be married, of renting out a place called Break My Back and celebrating. "I'm trying to give them as much time as I can."

"Bring them back safe," she said. "We're going to have a lot more problems than our grief if something happens to them."

"I will."

"And don't you go off and die either. If you pull a Fourth and make me become Hokage again, I'm going to be pissed."

"It would be such a shame if I interrupted your extremely fulfilling retirement," he teased.

"Gambling _is_ fulfilling," she said, gesturing towards him with the bottle of sake. "Besides, I've earned it. I know you like to point out how you had to personally take on Kaguya, but running a country during that time was no walk in the park either."

"You were in a coma for half of it."

"Oh, don't be clever. I was awake for the important parts. If I recall correctly, you _died_ at one point, so I think I still come out ahead of you."

Smiling despite himself, Kakashi supposed that he considered Tsunade a friend. When she wasn't destroying his belongings, he really did enjoy her company. Their conversations held a sense of honesty that he couldn't quite find with anyone else. She, more than anyone, understood how little he knew what he was doing when it came to leading a ninja village, because she had been in the exact same position.

"If you say so," he said. "You'll look after things while I'm gone?"

"Only until morning," she said. "After that, I'm handing control of the village to a squad of the most hyperactive academy students I can find, so you'd better be back before then."

"Thank you."

(Fairy Tales Pt. 1)

Once upon a time, when the ninja villages were still fresh saplings blooming into the roots of the world, and the First Ninja World War was nothing more than a whisper in the wind, there was a man in Konoha named Shochu. Neither a noble nor a ninja, Shochu considered himself rather unimportant in the grand scheme of things. He ran with a crowd of similarly unimportant people, who were all stuck midway in a season of youth: both full of the desire to revolutionize the world and bitterly aware that they were the wrong people at the wrong time to change anything.

So, like many young and foolish people before them, they all decided to get really, _really_ drunk.

It had started as a drinking contest among friends, but what it ended as, Shochu could not remember. The only clear memory he had in the blur of summer heat and lights and the sound of sunset frogs was meeting pretty girl, whose golden hair glowed softly underneath the sky like starlight. Her voice as light as the July breeze, she had been singing sweetly to the moon, surrounded by her own group of laughing, inebriated friends. Shochu did not believe in love at first sight, particularly while under the influence of alcohol, but seeing the girl of starlight for the first time had to be something close.

Twelve hours later, Shochu woke up in a cold, ivory hospital room, every inch of his body aching in regret. The golden-haired girl (he desperately racked his brain to try and figure out her name, but he came up with nothing) was sitting beside his hospital bed with a book in her hands. She smiled softly when his eyes fluttered open. The supervising medical-nin, who was taking Shochu's vitals, looked less pleased.

"Son," said the medical-nin, in disappointment. "You managed to break your back."

"Break my back?" croaked Shochu, his throat still raw from the burn of alcohol.

"You'll recover, but it's not going to be pleasant. Do you remember what happened?"

Shochu shook his head.

"You were trying to climb a tree," said the girl. "And, um, fell. Just outside the city limits."

"What was I doing up in a tree?" asked Shochu.

"You said you were going to try and impress me."

Using what little motion he could manage, he craned his neck to look her in the face. Even without the rosy goggles of alcohol, she was the loveliest woman he'd ever seen. And, after all, she _had_ stayed. "Did it work?"

"Well," she said, giggling. "I've never had someone fall out of a tree for me before."

Many people would have taken waking up in a hospital room with a broken back and no memory of the event as a sign to get sober. Shochu, however, figuring he still had a girl to impress, decided the best course of action was to open a pub. As soon as he was able to walk again, he bought a shack in the eastern end of Konoha, did the best he could with renovations (with some help from his Starlight, who as it turned out, had quite a knack for that sort of thing), and opened Break My Back a few months later.

Break My Back did not take off quite like Shochu had hoped, only getting just enough business to get by. However, his Starlight was impressed all the same. They married the following summer, in a short-but-sweet ordeal attended by all of their friends.

They were unimportant, in the grand scheme of things. However, Shochu reckoned that owning a dusty, wooden bar with the love of his life was a good enough reason for carrying on.

(Fairy Tales Pt. 2)

Once upon a time, when the fresh wounds of the Fourth Ninja World War were just starting to mend, Sakura Haruno found herself in need of a quiet drink. With a considerable amount of desperation, she stumbled upon a dusty, wooden bar in the eastern end of town. It looked ancient compared to the polished buildings beside it and was barely the size of a small apartment, but it was empty. For that kind of peace, Sakura was willing to do a lot worse.

Due to her accomplishments during the war and her recent venture into creating pediatric mental health care, Sakura had gained a significant amount of notoriety. When she went out in public, all sorts of people wanted to just _talk_ to her. Families thanked her as she bought her groceries; little girls asked how they could grow up to be like her as she passed the academy on her morning run; people pressed for stories of the war when she went out on the town at night; parents asked for advice regarding their children as she made her way home from hospital shifts.

During such occasions, Sakura smiled, answered their questions, and did her best to not be overwhelmed by it all. After all, to be held in such high esteem was a great honor and she wanted help as many people as she could.

Still, she could not shake the feeling that they were all wildly mistaken. When she looked into the mirror, all she saw was a nineteen-year-old girl, just as lost and unsure as nineteen-year-olds tended to be. She was a powerful ninja, certainly, but becoming a "war hero" had not granted her the wisdom that people expected. In fact, the only thing saving the world had taught Sakura was that she knew nothing at all.

Once, a few months after the war had ended, she brought up these concerns with Tsunade, who told her something that forever changed the way she looked up to people.

" _Kid," she'd said. "Welcome to the rest of your life. None of us have any idea what we're doing. All we can do is fake it well enough that people feel secure and hope that things don't go too_ _badly_ _."_

So, Sakura did. She smiled, answered their questions like she had an authority to do so, and did her best to not be overwhelmed by it all.

Sometimes, though, she just needed to stop pretending.

"Welcome to Break My Back," said the barkeep. At least in his late eighties, he was completely bald and hunched over with the weight of age. His entire face was heavily wrinkled, but his laugh lines were particularly deep. "What can I get you?"

"Gin and tonic, please," said Sakura, taking a seat at the bar.

The pair sat in silence as Sakura drank her first drink and then another and then _another_ , but when she ordered her fourth, the bartender asked, "Did someone break your heart or something?"

"What?" she asked.

"You're a little young to be drinking this much."

"You're a little old to be managing a bar," she shot back.

"Oldest bartender in town," he said, smiling. "My name's Shochu."

Sakura childishly considered giving a fake name, wanting just for a night to pretend like she was something other than Sakura Haruno, but she ultimately decided against it. "I'm Sakura."

"You wouldn't be Sakura Haruno, would you?" She nodded, causing him to raise his pale, thinning eyebrows. " _Really_?"

"How many pink-haired people do you see everyday?"

"It's just—" There was an exhausted look in his eyes, and Sakura found herself wondering how old he truly was. "—you're a little young to be a famous war veteran. I suppose your next drink is on me, though, since you helped save the world and all."

"You really don't have to do that," she insisted.

"Don't take it personally," he said, grinning again. "This bar's seen all four Ninja World Wars and I've given free drinks to veterans from all of them. It would be distasteful to stop now."

"Okay." She smiled and relaxed a bit, letting the buzz from the alcohol soothe her stress from the day. But, she couldn't resist curiously asking, "All four ninja world wars?"

"Yup," he said, his eyes beaming with pride. "I started this thing a couple years before the first. In fact, during the First Ninja World War—"

A surprisingly good story-teller, he recounted a slew of memories to her, all from different ages of Konoha. She listened intently for several hours and was coaxed into eventually sharing some of her own tales, launching a bizarre sort of friendship.

They each justified it in their own ways. Sakura would tell herself, when she repeatedly went back to the bar in the following months, that he was just interesting to listen to. As one of the oldest people in Konoha, he was a walking history book. His stories were a nice place to escape to when the present got too overwhelming.

Shochu would tell himself, as he told her all sorts of stories in her following visits, that she was just interesting to be near. Unlike Shochu, Sakura _was_ important in the grand scheme of things. By the age Shochu was when he opened Break My Back, Sakura had helped to stop the apocalypse and was opening her own children's clinics. She was changing in the world in ways he could have only dreamed of, and her significance, though she seldom acknowledged it, was fascinating.

In reality, they were both drawn to friendship with one another because they were both lonely. Shochu's Starlight did not quite make it to see the Fourth Ninja World War, succumbing to a heart attack in her sleep a few years previous. And though all of Sakura's friends were falling in love and starting a new chapter in their lives, Sakura herself only had faint dreams of a dark-haired boy halfway across the world. The bar, though they didn't like to admit it, was a shared limbo for them—one where Sakura was waiting to live and Shochu was waiting to die.

* * *

Nearly a year after her first visit, the regulars at Break My Back had grown used to Sakura's occasional company. The bubbly, pink-haired nineteen-year-old stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the bar's usual clientele—mostly reclusive, older folk who needed a place to get out to every once in awhile. However, she eventually faded into the background, just like everything else at Break My Back, and no one even looked up from their drinks when she entered anymore.

"Welcome to Break My Back," said Shochu, as she entered. "What can I get for you today?"

"A favor," she said, a wide grin plastered across her face. "If that's alright."

"What do you have in mind?"

"In a few weeks, two friends of mine are getting married," she said. "But a few days before that, we want to all get together to have drinks and catch up. Would you mind hosting a party of ten?"

"I think I can manage that," he said, smiling. "Who's the lucky two?"

"I've told you about them before: my teammate Naruto and his fiancé Hinata."

Shochu had learned to react to Sakura being good friends with a variety of well-known people with nonchalance. The rest of the regulars, however, were less subtle.

" _The_ Naruto?" asked a stocky woman with a choppy, brown haircut, down at the end of the bar.

"No, her _other_ teammate Naruto," said the man beside her sarcastically. "The one who scrubs dishes down the road."

"Well how was I supposed to know she knew _the_ Naruto—"

"Oh, knock it off, both of you," said Shochu, before turning back to Sakura. "Bring your friends around. I'll take care of them."

* * *

Much to Shochu's pleasure, Break My Back became the official spot of the Konoha Eleven's pre-wedding get togethers. They were perhaps the most important thing his bar had ever done and he lamented that his Starlight did not make it to see them.

The other nine surviving Konoha Eleven, like Sakura, were at first glance much younger and more down-to-earth than he expected them to be. If he had not been warned in advance, he would never have known that they were the fabled Eleven. Crammed around a table too small for the ten of them, laughing and drinking, they reminded him of his own friends when he was around that age.

So, like he found with Sakura, it was jarring to hear them talk about their mission work as casually as a laborer might discuss his day-to-day. Though they looked barely older than children, they regularly carried out tasks that were beyond anything Shochu could dream of. They carried the danger and pressure with more grace than their age should have allowed.

Shochu supposed that was the real difference between extraordinary people like them and regular people like him—the ability to persevere despite the extreme circumstances. As much as Shochu had fancied himself a revolutionary in his younger days, the stress of owning a barely-managing bar was more than enough for him. Still, whenever Sakura came back and asked if he would host another pre-wedding party, he always said yes. For the actual "do-ers" of the world, it was the least he could do.

* * *

Shortly after the fourth party, Sakura stopped visiting Break My Back. She was a busy woman with a lot of responsibilities, so Shochu knew better than to be worried, but he couldn't help it. Over the past few years, Shochu had started to think of her as the daughter he'd never had.

Then one day in October, just as the leaves were starting to fall, Sakura came back. With a smile brighter than he'd ever seen it, Sakura entered the bar hand-in-hand with a handsome, raven-haired boy. Shochu did not personally recognize him, but he had heard enough stories and rumors to make a decent guess at his identity.

"Welcome to Break My Back," said Shochu, grinning. "It's good to see you again, Sakura."

"He's the one I've been telling you about," she said to the man with her, leaning against his shoulder. "Sasuke, this is Shochu. Shochu, this is Sasuke Uchiha."

If Shochu thought the bar was quiet before, the noise-level was deafening compared to the complete silence after Sakura's introduction. All of his regulars paused what they were doing to look up at the man in a mix of fear and morbid curiosity.

Shochu had to admit, even with Sakura's insistence that Sasuke had changed, it was still a bit startling to see him in person. Unlike the rest of Sakura's friends, Sasuke could not blend into a crowd. There was an unquestionable air of power around him—a conflicting sense of deserved pride and remorseful humility.

"It's nice to meet you," said Sasuke civilly, extending his hand out. If he was bothered by the stares, he didn't show it, though Shochu noticed that Sakura was looking around nervously. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Likewise," said Shochu.

The two shook hands and, as Sasuke bowed his head respectfully, a mutual understanding took place. Shochu's own opinion of Sasuke aside, the Uchiha was in love with Sakura and Sakura was in love with him. Sasuke, knowing that Shochu cared about Sakura but undoubtedly had heard of Sasuke's less-than-favorable reputation, was acknowledging Shochu's place in Sakura life and, because of it, proposing a clean slate between them. For Sakura, Shochu found it in himself to nod back.

"What can I get you two this evening?"

"Two drinks," said Sakura. "And a favor."

"Who's getting married this time?" asked Shochu, playing along.

Sakura smiled up at Sasuke with all the radiance of young love, prompting Sasuke to give her a surprisingly soft smile in return. "Us."

(The Party)

When Naruto suggested a round of toasts, "here's to Sakura, for being a damn traitor" was not what he had in mind. Nevertheless, Tenten clamored to her feet using the top of Lee's head as support, raised her fifth glass of sake, and gave the toast all the same.

It had become tradition for the Konoha Eleven and their respective spouses, the night or so before someone's wedding, to go to Break My Back and celebrate and reminisce in the way that only old friends could. Somewhere along the way, it had also become tradition for Tenten to get wasted and give speeches that she heavily regretted the next morning.

Tenten was lucky that the Konoha Eleven were sentimental in nature, because otherwise someone would have tackled her to the ground.

"Tenten," said Lee sternly. "You promised you wouldn't do this."

"This one's a good one," she slurred. "I _promise_."

Being the guests of honor at that evening's gathering, Sasuke and Sakura sat at the middle-back of a dark oak table that was _just_ too small for the fourteen of them. Sakura, who was drunk on both love and vodka, _did_ briefly consider tackling Tenten to prevent her from speaking any further. This wouldn't have helped the evening be less dramatic, of course, but it wouldn't be the first time that someone had started a bar fight the night before their wedding on account of Tenten.

Sensing his fiancée's sudden flare of violence, Sasuke squeezed her hand under the table in a gesture of absent-minded comfort while he mentally went through every terrible thing that Tenten could bring up in her speech. He was the only one at the table who'd never heard one of Tenten's speeches, on account of his nomadic nature, but he'd heard enough stories to worry him.

"I think we're going to need more," said Sakura, looking over to Shochu. Though he was cleaning glasses, Sakura could see a smile on his face; Tenten's speeches always amused him. "Of everything."

"Right away," said Shochu, nodding.

Naruto and Hinata, who sat to Sasuke's left, had grown more publicly affectionate as the night went on and the drinks kept coming. But, the looming threat of Tenten's speech was enough for Naruto to let go of Hinata's hand, just in case he needed to react quickly if things went south. He still kept his arm around her shoulders, though, and Hinata kissed his cheek appreciatively.

Ino and Sai, on Sakura's right, had been the victims of Tenten's _worst_ speech. With every ounce self-control she had, Ino restrained herself from dragging Tenten out of the bar before the speech got ugly, fiercely determined to make sure Sakura had a good time tonight. Sai, who was doodling on a spare napkin and unsure of how else to prevent his wife from resorting to drastic measures, gave her a quick drawing of some flowers to distract her. To his relief, it worked for just a moment.

Choji, Karui, Temari, and Shikamaru circled around from Sai, all looking at one another apprehensively. Both couples' speeches hadn't been _as_ disastrous as Ino's and Sai's, but they were bad enough that even the thought of Tenten giving a speech filled them with dread.

Next to Hinata, Kiba looked positively gleeful. He took great delight in teasing Tenten about her speeches the day after, and given that someone only got married every once in awhile, his time had finally come again. Shino, who had the misfortune of sitting next to Tenten, looked like the second-hand embarrassment was killing him.

"As you know," continued Tenten. "Right now, our numbers are perfectly even. Five of the Konoha Eleven are married; five of us aren't. 'Course, the betrayal started when Choji—" She waved her glass vaguely at his direction at the end of the table, where he was sitting with an arm around his wife. "—made us give up our majority in the first place. One could even argue it started when Naruto and Hinata had to go off and marry each other, starting this whole downward spiral of matrimony."

"Why do you always do this to yourself, Tenten?" asked Temari, putting her head in her hands.

"This one has a point.I've already promised." Turning her attention back to Sakura, Tenten raised her glass once more and accidentally spilled half of her sake on Shino's lap, causing Hinata to erupt into a fit of drunken, nervous giggles. "Anyways, Sakura Haruno. When we first met, I didn't understand you at all. You cried more times during that Chūnin exam than I've cried in my entire life.

"And Sasuke, you did more brooding than—" Tenten took a pause that was awkwardly noticed but not acknowledged. She and Hinata exchanged a brief look. "Well, you did a whole lot of brooding. I remember just looking at the two of you and wondering how such dysfunctional people could ever be ninja."

Sasuke had consumed too many drinks to mask any divisions from psychological neutrality. Mouth open in a near perfect "o," Sasuke looked at Tenten in the same dumbfounded yet unwillingly captivated way that people stared at house fires. Sakura, on the opposite end of the spectrum, was nearly crying into Sasuke's shoulder from laughter, brought on by both her fiancé's expression and the disastrous speech. The rest of the party was, emotionally, somewhere between the two.

"This has a point?" asked Shikamaru, hoping at some point they would be put out of their misery.

" _Yes_ , it has a point," said Tenten, as if everyone was a fool for not already realizing this. "The point is, I wasn't really wrong about these first impressions. Sakura still cries publicly about twice a week and Sasuke's story speaks for itself." She looked at the remaining bits of sake in her glass thoughtfully. "But as far as weepy and angsty ninja go, you two are probably my favorites."

There was a brief period of stupefied silence that was quickly ended by Kiba. "To Weepy and Angsty," he said, raising his drink. "May they at least find solace in each other until the end of their days."

Lee, who always abstained from drinking, managed to coerce Tenten into sitting back down as the others—sans Karui—laughed and drank to Kiba's sentiment. Just as she had been doing all night, Karui smiled and brought her glass to her lips, but she never actually took a sip. Until this point, only Sakura had noticed this charade and had the wisdom to not comment on it. Sai, who had just noticed during the toast, did not have that wisdom.

"You usually drink more than this," he said to Karui tactlessly.

"I have a headache," said Karui, at the same time Choji said, "It's nothing."

Not even needing his wife's incredulous look to know he said the wrong thing, Choji tried to backtrack, "I mean, it's nothing, because it's just a headache—"

"Is she _pregnant_?" asked Ino, furiously standing up.

All conversation at the table abruptly ceased as everyone turned wide-eyed towards Choji and Karui. Shikamaru's face turned as pale as paper and Choji was pointedly avoiding everyone's gaze.

"Congratulations," slurred Hinata, inebriatedly oblivious to the sudden tenseness in the room.

"We were going to tell you eventually," said Choji.

" _Eventually_?" shrieked Ino. "What kind of time would that have given us?"

"Wait," said Temari, standing up too. "When you say time, you don't mean—"

"We're InoShikaCho!" said Ino. "Our families have always _been_ InoShikaCho. And now that they've—" She gestured angrily towards Choji and Karui. "— _Cho'd_ , what do you think has to happen?"

"Look," said Shikamaru, as he and Sai joined the crowd of panicked standing people. "Let's not make any rash decisions."

"It's tradition, Shikamaru," said Ino, looking like she was quite literally willing to fight him over it.

"Does it have to be firstborns?" asked Sai logically. "Couldn't Choji's and Karui's second kid be part of InoShikaCho?"

"I'm not having another kid," warned Karui.

" _Traditionally_ ," said Shikamaru, as if the words were physically painful for him to say. "InoShikaCho has to be firstborns, anyways."

"Are you actually considering this?" asked Temari, looking at her husband in outrage. "Don't I get a say in this at all?"

"I know that you're not from Konoha, Temari," said Ino. "But given that you married into a prominent Konoha clan, you could at least be respectful of our customs."

Temari's face darkened over. "Alright, listen here, you bitch—"

The argument dissolved into complete mayhem after that. All three members of InoShikaCho and their spouses started yelling at one another, so loudly and chaotically that it was hard to even make out what anyone was saying. Due to the panic of being forced to have children and the several drinks they had consumed throughout the night (except for Karui, who was running solely on pregnancy-fueled rage), all of them were saying hateful things they didn't quite mean.

The rest of the table, decidedly _not_ involved in their clan issues, just looked on awkwardly.

"I've run out of soap," said Shochu, inching around the yelling six. "I'll be right down the road if you need me."

Sakura gave him an apologetic nod.

"Are these things always this…intense?" whispered Sasuke.

"It runs about fifty-fifty," admitted Sakura.

"Look on the bright side," said Naruto. "You made it through Tenten's speech without things getting violent, so you're already doing better than Ino's and Sai's party."

"What happened at Ino's and Sai's party?" asked Sasuke.

Tenten opened her mouth to answer, but both Shino and Lee quickly covered it.

"You really don't want to know," said Kiba, uncharacteristically serious.

" _This exact same thing happened with our fathers_ ," said Ino, who was now standing on her chair. " _What the hell is with you Akimichi men and your inability to think ahead?"_

"Do you think they'll actually go along with it?" asked Lee.

"We should place bets," said Kiba.

"That's distasteful, Kiba," said Shino.

"You think everything I suggest is distasteful."

"That's because it usually _is_ distasteful."

" _Say what you want about Suna, but at least_ my _family isn't pressuring me to have a baby right this second."_

"Forget having kids," said Tenten. "We should place bets on whether or not they'll ever speak to each other again."

"They'll come around," said Sakura confidently. "Once they fight it out."

" _I still don't understand why it can't be the second child."_

" _I told you, dammit, I'm not having another kid."_

"To friends," said Kiba, raising his glass with a humored smile. "Even if they are all crazy."

"And to love," said Hinata, raising her own glass.

"And to Sasuke and Sakura," said Naruto. His proper speech would come tomorrow at the wedding reception, but he figured they needed at least one decent toast to their names tonight. "And a lifetime of happiness."

" _Shikamaru, what the hell would your father say?"_

" _That's low, Ino, bringing my father into this—"_

With laughs and smiles and a few eye rolls to the spectacle at the right end of the table, the eight of them drank to all of those things.

For the last time in a very long time, life was perfect.

* * *

Kakashi did not remember walking to Break My Back—not really. His instincts and reflexes were more than enough to sneak through the shadows of Konoha while his mind wandered off to other places.

The night was unusually pleasant, he'd noticed. A warm front had come in earlier in the week, replacing the usual chill of January wind with an agreeable, cozy breeze. As such, the town was busy and alive, filled with people taking advantage of the weather. Lights from shops twinkled like fireflies in a summer field, illuminating the skyline despite it being well after sunset.

Mixed with the conflicting feelings of appreciating the lovely view of the city and immense dread, Kakashi did not regain awareness of himself until he'd reached the bar and found himself face-to-face with an elderly man and several unseen, yelling voices. The man did a double take upon seeing him and nearly dropped his shopping bag.

"Goodness gracious, you're the Hokage," said the man.

"I am," said Kakashi, a bit awkwardly.

"I mean—" The man went wide-eyed as he realized what he'd said and began to bow. "—it's an honor to meet you, Hokage, sir. Forgive me; I lost my manors for a second. The name's Shochu."

"Are you the man that owns this bar?"

"Yes, sir. Oldest bartender in town. Can I get you anything to drink? I mean, I've got a full house at the moment, but—"

"No, it's alright," said Kakashi. "But, if you would, my three students—Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura—are inside your bar. Would you mind grabbing them for me?"

"It would be my pleasure, Hokage, sir."

Ducking around the building, Shochu disappeared through a back entrance. A few moments later, the front door opened and his three students walked single-file out of it.

" _I know it's hard for you not to be a massive bitch, Ino, but if you could let someone else get a word in—"_

Sasuke quickly shut the door behind them.

"Was that Temari?" asked Kakashi, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," said Sakura. "It's…um…a bit of a long story."

Sasuke snorted, sending Sakura into a fit of laughter. By the look of things, they were both a bit tipsy, and Kakashi hoped that fact wouldn't interfere with their mission too much. Naruto, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes at Kakashi.

"You're afraid." Because of the Nine-Tailed Fox inside of him, Naruto could sense negative emotions in other people. "What's wrong?"

This caused Sakura and Sasuke to stiffen. Though they did not have the same power, the tense look on Naruto's face told them everything they needed to know.

"I'm really sorry to have to do this." And he was. "But we have to go on a mission."

"Now?" asked Sakura, louder than she meant. Sasuke put a comforting hand on her shoulder, though he looked no less disturbed.

"What's _wrong_?" repeated Naruto.

"I sent a reconnaissance squad to the Valley of the End this morning," said Kakashi, holding out the mission report. "And they brought back this."

Sakura snatched the piece of paper out of his hands and read it like her life depended on it. Not wanting to wait until she was finished, her two teammates read over her shoulders. As they made their way through the report, all three of them began to look extremely exhausted.

"We'll all be back before morning," promised Kakashi, even though he wasn't sure he could keep it. But, he doubted a broken promise would even be significant if he made them miss the wedding. "We just have to make sure it's something that won't…escalate until your wedding is over."

"All four of us are going?" asked Sasuke. Kakashi nodded. "So, you think this has something to do with Kaguya."

"Could be," admitted Kakashi. "We can't take the chance if it is."

The four fell into an awful silence as all the fear and memories of the war six years ago came flooding back. Sakura in particular looked like she wanted to scream or argue or _something_ , but she couldn't find the energy to do any of those things. Instead, she just closed her eyes and leaned into Sasuke's side, who put an arm around her, unable to come up with words that would bring any of them comfort.

"He's right," said Naruto eventually. "But if we go now, we'll be back in plenty of time for the wedding."

"Okay." Sakura voice cracked and tears began to brim in her eyes, causing Kakashi to feel another stab of guilt. "I'll…I'll need to tell Ino and ask her if she can get everything ready in the morning."

"And I need to say goodnight to Hinata," said Naruto.

"We'll meet at the village gates in thirty minutes," said Kakashi. "Get everything you can ready before then."

* * *

To InoShikaCho's credit, they immediately stopped their arguing to come to Sakura's and Sasuke's aid. The girls, as if they hadn't just been throwing insults at one another, joined together to comfort Sakura and promise her that everything would be ready by the time she got back in the morning.

(Blame it On Things)

Kenshin Yamanaka had not been exaggerating. By the time they reached the edge of the valley, around two in the morning, all lingering feelings of intoxication and pre-wedding joy were replaced by crippling despair.

"What the hell _is_ that?" whispered Sakura.

Activating his Sharingan, Sasuke looked out over the Valley of the End. "There's something in the center. It looks like a…pink crystal."

"We're being tormented by an evil crystal?" asked Sakura incredulously.

"Anything else?" asked Kakashi.

Sasuke surveyed the area. "No. There's no genjutsu or people—just the crystal."

The four looked at each other uneasily.

"Well," said Naruto. "Let's go, then."

They made their way to the center of the Valley of the End as slowly and deliberately as soldiers marched to the front lines of battle. With every step they took towards the crystal, the evil feeling, thudding against their skulls, grew more agonizing. Every unpleasant thought and feeling they'd ever had was screaming in their minds.

Visibly shaking as they made their way forward, Sasuke was clearly the most affected. A permanent look of terror was plastered on his face, and he looked to be torn between running away and vomiting. Sakura was doing her best to be comforting, holding his hand and whispering words of love in his ear, but tears were freely falling down her face as feelings of loss and loneliness punched her in the chest. Kakashi was emotionally not far behind Sasuke, completely glazed over as terrible memories forced themselves upon him.

"C'mon," encouraged Naruto, who was by far the _least_ affected, though definitely not immune. "We're not too far."

Then, a wave of the chakra crashed over them at once, washing away all light from the world. Naruto and Sakura were able to fight through it, clinging onto thoughts of all the good things they could think of, but Kakashi and Sasuke were gone.

Suddenly unaware of where he was, Kakashi saw a massive crowd of people sprawling out in front of him. Rin was at the front, as young as she had been at her death, bleeding freely from the hole he'd put through her. Behind her, Minato and Kushina were as mutilated as they had been when the Third Hokage had found their bodies. The victims of the Fourth Shinobi World War expanded out from there, as bloody and haggard as the front three. And in the shadows, there was Obito, his haunted, red eyes shrouded by unrivaled hatred.

More and more faces joined the line, each one cursing Kakashi's name, all of them blaming him for the state that Kakashi had directly or indirectly put them in. The guilt and pain, built up over the span of several decades, exploded out from the place that Kakashi had locked away those feelings in his chest. Unable to bear the weight any longer, he fell to his knees and began to beg them for forgiveness.

Sasuke, on the other hand, was completely submerged in a world of war and death and pain. The Fourth Ninja World War raged around him and all the hatred in his heart that he had long given up rose again to the surface. Anger pounding in his head and the smell of battle around him, he drew his sword, ready to kill for his cause.

"Naruto!" said Sakura helplessly, jumping away from her fiancé. Sakura had no doubt in her mind that Sasuke, when in his right mind, would never hurt her. However, none of them were in their right mind. "Naruto, help!"

Naruto, who had been previously trying to help Kakashi, looked over at them just in time to see Sasuke draw his blade. His face darkening over, Naruto turned towards Sakura and said, "Take care of Kakashi."

As Naruto ran at Sasuke, Sakura forced herself to turn away from them. On the ground, Kakashi was still pleading with people that Sakura could not see.

"I'm sorry," said Kakashi, more emotional than she'd ever heard him. "God, I'm so sorry."

_They all blamed him for their deaths and he deserved it. He had killed them all. He was responsible for Obito turning astray, for causing the Fourth Ninja World War to ever have a champion to fight it. All of the hatred burning through them, rippling through the Valley as they cried out in pain, was destroying him, but he was so, so sorry..._

"Kakashi," she said, shaking his shoulders to try and snap him out of it. However, he did not seem to notice her, his eyes still focused ahead. Unsure of what else to do, she pulled him into a hug. "Kakashi, please, they aren't real. There's no one there."

Beside them, Naruto pinned Sasuke to the ground, causing the Uchiha to yell out all sorts of awful curses. At the very least, the evil presence had made him a worse fighter than usual.

_The person tackling Sasuke into the ground shifted form many times. First it was Obito Uchiha, the monster behind the mask, the man who had helped to kill his whole clan. Then it was Danzō, the manipulating bastard who had ordered the massacre in the first place. Finally, it was Madara, his eyes filled with all the madness of the Curse of Hatred...but, wait...no...it wasn't Madara. It was him. Sasuke was staring at his own reflection, the final reincarnation of an insane, bitter brother..._

"You killed them," said Sasuke, with all the hatred he had in him. "You killed all of them."

"Sasuke, what are you talking about?" yelled Naruto. "It's me, Naruto. I'm your _friend_."

"It's my fault," muttered Kakashi. "There's blood everywhere and it's all my fault."

"There isn't _any_ blood. There's nothing there." said Sakura, her tears falling softly in his hair as she held him tighter. Again, nothing went through to him. "Kakashi, I know you're in there, dammit. You have to remember the good things. Remember…" She didn't know if he considered it a good memory, but in the stress of the moment, it was the only thing she could think of. "Remember when you gave us that first bell test?"

"Bell test," he repeated, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes.

"Yes, the bell test," she said, nearly laughing in relief. "Back when we were little and stupid and you couldn't stand any of us. Remember, I fainted after you used a genjutsu on me and you had to tie Naruto to a post—"

"—because he tried to steal the lunches," finished Kakashi. A look of realization passed over his face and Sakura released him, knowing her Kakashi had returned. Then, his face changed to embarrassed regret. "I—"

"Don't worry. We'll never speak of this again," she said. She looked over at Naruto and Sasuke, who were still grappling in the dirt, the latter yelling hate-filled nonsense. "Naruto, make him remember! He has to remember something good!"

Dodging a punch to the face, Naruto used his Nine-Tails chakra to pin his best friend to the ground. "Remember when we were here last, Sasuke? You were trying to kill me, but, um, don't remember that part. Remember that, after years of fighting, we finally became friends again. You took my hand and we released the Infinite Tsukuyomi and we agreed not to fight again, so snap out of this, idiot!"

"Don't call me an idiot, idiot." Sasuke face was scrunched in pain and he was still fighting to gain control over the evil presence, but Naruto was relieved to see that his friend was still in there somewhere. "It's still there, I can't—"

"Remember having drinks at Break My Back?" asked Sakura, approaching them slowly. "And Tenten's speech? It was awful, but everyone toasted anyway and you were holding my hand and—" Carefully, she bent down and caressed his cheek. "—Sasuke, remember that I love you."

Finally, Sasuke relaxed. "Always, Sakura."

Relieved beyond words, Sakura sat down on the ground beside him and Naruto followed suit. For a few moments, none of them moved, all attempting to recover from the incident.

Though still shaken by his crystal-induced hallucination, Kakashi broke the uneasy silence. "We need to keep going."

"Remember the good things," said Naruto, looking to the crystal up ahead, only about fifty meters away. "We can do this."

"Hell, yeah," said Sakura, with a half-hearted smile.

Picking themselves back up and latching on to every happy memory they could, Team Seven put one foot in front of the other until they were nearly arm's length to the crystal. The crystal itself was about the size of Kakashi in height and width and the color of Sakura's hair. If it hadn't been radiating an evil, mind-controlling chakra, they might have considered it pretty.

"So," said Sasuke. "What now?"

"We could destroy it," offered Naruto.

"That might release whatever is inside of it," said Kakashi. "I could try and seal it somehow, but I don't know a seal that would work."

" _Does_ this have something to do with Kaguya?" asked Sakura.

The men of Team Seven exchanged a look that confirmed that none of them had any idea. Naruto opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, another wave of chakra came. Although the did their best to hold on to cherished memories to keep themselves sane, Sasuke and Kakashi started to slip again. Letting out a sudden yell, Kakashi readied a Chidori in his hands and attempted to slam it into the crystal.

However, the Chidori never made contact. The crystal sucked up the chakra from Kakashi's Chidori like a vacuum and pulled Kakashi's hand onto the surface of the crystal. The evil feeling, previously suffocating them like steam in a bath house, disappeared entirely. For several, tense seconds, no one even dared to breathe, worried that Kakashi would suddenly collapse or be whisked away into the crystal. Finally, Kakashi slowly moved his arm.

"I'm stuck," said Kakashi.

"You're what?" asked Sakura.

"I said," said Kakashi, gritting his teeth as he unsuccessfully tried to pry his hand from the crystal. "I'm _stuck_."

"Here, I'll just—" Naruto grabbed Kakashi's arm and attempted to yank him away from the crystal, but Kakashi still didn't budge. Sighing, Naruto tried to let go of him but found that he couldn't. "…now I'm stuck."

"To Kakashi?" asked Sakura incredulously.

"To Kakashi."

"Great," said Kakashi.

With a low, humming noise, the crystal started to glow a vibrant pink and Kakashi and Naruto let out a yelp of pain.

"What now?" asked Sakura, looking at the pair in panic.

"It's absorbing our chakra," said Kakashi. " _Quickly_."

"What do we do?" asked Sasuke to Kakashi.

"I'm thinking, I'm think—"

Before Kakashi could finish his sentence, he swooned, unable to hold himself up under the chakra draining. Sakura released the seal on her forehead, placed one of her hands on Kakashi's arm, steadied herself on the crystal with her other hand, and transferred some of her chakra into Kakashi.

"Sakura!" said Sasuke sharply.

"I had to do something!" said Sakura. "He'll die of chakra exhaustion before we can do anything to stop this. He doesn't have Naruto's chakra reserves."

"Neither do you," said Sasuke, as Kakashi's eyes blinked back open and he managed to steady himself.

As the crystal grew brighter, the intensity of the pain began to increase, and it was Sakura's turn to let out a terrible cry. Sasuke's face paled and he instinctively reached out to touch her—to comfort her—but he pulled his hand away at the last second.

"Naruto," said Sasuke, though he never tore his eyes away from Sakura, who was blinking tears out of her own eyes. "We need to seal it."

"We can't," said Naruto. "We're all stuck to this thing. The Six Paths — Chibaku Tensei will trap _us_ inside too."

"We have to try," said Sasuke. "Maybe I'll be able to summon us outside of the satellite with my Rinnegan."

"Okay," said Naruto, knowing he had no other choice. He looked over at Sakura and Kakashi, who were struggling to maintain consciousness. "On the count of three. One...two...three—"

Naruto's free palm made contact with the crystal at the same time as Sasuke's, and they released their chakra for the fūinjutsu. The gravity around them began to swiftly shift, pivoting from the center of the earth to the pillar of the crystal, and the shards of the Valley started to encase them in a giant, rocky sphere. As the ball began to slowly rise above the earth, taking the crystal and Team Seven with it, the four of them were all struck by the horrible realization that they were not going to make it out of this.

"This is an awful way to die," said Sakura, not even bothering to blink away the tears anymore.

"We're not going to die." Naruto's voice cracked as he said this. "We can't. Not now. Summon us out of here, Sasuke."

"I can't," whispered Sasuke, closing his eyes. "It's not working. I'm stuck."

"We have to do _something_."

But, there was nothing left to do. They were rising into the sky without any signs of stopping, and Naruto, with his expansive wealth of chakra, was the only one bound to be alive after the next few minutes.

"I'm sorry," said Kakashi, and once again, a guilt the size of the world was upon him. "If I hadn't of touched it—"

"If you didn't, I would have," said Sasuke. "You just got there first."

"I suppose it was always meant to be the four of us," said Sakura, trying to smile. "Even now, at the very end."

In the silence of the moment, Naruto thought of Hinata. He thought about her radiating grace on the battlefield and how beautiful she looked in candlelight; he thought about the way she kissed him goodbye in the mornings and the fact that she dipped everything in red bean soup; he thought about her smile, which could light up his whole world in an instance, and the family they were thinking about starting soon. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself a moment to imagine their future that would never be. He saw them hand-in-hand, older than they were now but no less in love, watching their children as they ran around and chased one another playfully. In that moment, he missed her with all the strength he had left, and he would have given anything to be by her side and not leave her alone in this world.

Kakashi's imagined future was not too different from Naruto's, though in the older man's, Sakura and Sasuke were there as well, looking after a couple children of their own. In that moment, he would have given anything to give his three students that future—the one they deserved. As his strength began to fade, though, his thoughts began to drift towards the afterlife and the people he might find there. He thought of Obito, Rin, Minato, and Kushina, not angry as he had seen them earlier, but at peace in the solace of the Pure Land. He thought about how indescribably nice it would be to finally see them again.

As the darkness closed in, Sakura and Sasuke just leaned on one another and enjoyed their final moments together. They thought of how short their relationship had been, in the grand scheme of things, and what they would give in that moment to let it last just a little longer. Sakura thought of their friends and the devastating news that would come their way tomorrow—the tragic halt of the wedding that would never be.

"Kakashi," said Sakura suddenly. "Marry Sasuke and I."

"What?" asked Kakashi, who had been deep in his own thoughts.

"You're Hokage," said Sakura. "You're legally allowed."

The light was completely vanquished as the final pieces of earth attached themselves onto their floating prison. It was hardly the place for a wedding, but given it was the last place they were likely to ever see, it would have to do. "Marry us," agreed Sasuke.

"I'll be witness," said Naruto's voice, and they could almost hear him grinning despite it all.

"We need to hurry," said Sakura.

"Sasuke," said Kakashi, who was desperately trying to remember the words of the wedding vows in the exhaustion of the moment. "Do you take Sakura and agree to become her partner? Will you in peace and in sickness, comfort, love, respect and help her? Will you promise all of this until death parts you from this world?"

"I promise," said Sasuke. Though he could not grab her hand as he would have liked, as his hand and hers were stuck to other places, he was able to gently place his forehead on hers.

"Sakura," said Kakashi, "Do you take Sasuke and agree to become his partner? Will you in peace and in sickness, comfort, love, respect, and help him? Will you promise all of this until death parts you from this world?"

Sakura smiled one last time. "I—"

(About Twenty-Four Years Earlier)

Kakashi awoke like the onset of an afternoon drizzle—very slowly, at first, and without much progress. His slumber was so immense that, for the first couple of minutes, he wasn't even aware that he was awake at all. Eyes too heavy to open, he simply _was_ , completely unaware of the concept of his existence. Kakashi had several, notable things to worry about at the present time, but for those first, waking minutes, there was nothing but the progression out of the deepest sleep he'd ever had.

Too soon, though (but really, given the circumstances, not soon enough), he registered that he _was_ awake and, more startlingly, that he'd never actually fallen asleep. Memories of Team Seven and the crystal rushing back to him, he sat up violently, giving himself a terrible head rush.

Trying to blink away the blurriness from his eyes, he attempted to piece together what had happened. The last thing he remembered was touching the crystal and the ensuing pain. The other three members of Team Seven had touched it as well, he knew, and he remembered numbly dishing out wedding vows inside of a giant, floating ball of earth. Where, though, were they now? Surely they must have died, but this did not feel like death (and he had more experience than most with that subject). Had they managed to make it out alive somehow? He didn't sense any chakras in the immediate area—Team Seven or otherwise—so he clamored to his feet.

To his horror, the sunlit bedroom was strikingly familiar.

It's most recognizable trait was its conspicuous emptiness. The floors were completely absent of clutter and the only piece of furniture in the room, save for the futon on which he had slept, was a desk in the corner. Several pictures of his old team, Team Minato, lined the back of the desk, but they lacked the wear and age his current copies adorned. More troubling, though, was the sword and sheath situated just in front of the photographs.

Carefully, Kakashi unsheathed the sword and gave it an experimental slash through the air. His father's sword, for that is what the weapon was, was as whole as the day it had been forged, despite having broken two and half decades ago. It had been a long time since he had held the sword in his hands, but the weight of the blade and the feel of the hilt were unmistakable. This was definitely the White Light Chakra Sabre and he was definitely back at his childhood apartment.

 _This has to be a genjutsu_ , he thought, but unless it was as powerful as the Infinite Tsukuyomi, he knew it couldn't be. Kakashi was skilled enough to dispel all "human" genjutsu. Not to mention, Sasuke _could_ resist the Infinite Tsukuyomi, so the genjutsu theory was unlikely all around.

The perfect replica of his old bedroom unnerved him, but he still couldn't sense anyone in the nearby area, so he decided to explore a little more. As he wandered into the bathroom and looked into the mirror, his unease plummeted into full blown panic. His reflection still belonged to him, certainly, but a _different_ him—the one who had owned this apartment. Judging from the baby fat in his cheeks (evident even with the mask) and the lack of scarring around his left eye, he couldn't have be any older than thirteen. He hadn't just returned to his old apartment; he had _gone back in time_.

"No way," he whispered, running a small hand through his now-shorter, snowy hair.

Logically, there was no way he could have actually gone back in time, because time travel didn't exist outside of wild theories and books of fiction. This had to be some outlandish, fever dream or miraculous genjutsu. He knew in his heart that this wasn't death—that he had managed to stay on the plane of the living for longer than anticipated—but time travel was out of the question.

Still, he had experience several things in the past couple of years that he hadn't previously thought possible either. He'd come back from the dead and battled a god and won. Was time travel really such a stretch?

 _Yes_ , he thought. _This has to be a genjutsu_.

Growing desperate, Kakashi grabbed a kunai off of the counter and plunged it into his hand. However, the scene around him didn't change. The only difference was the sudden onset of pain and blood.

"That was stupid," mumbled Kakashi.

He took a deep breath to calm himself and to snap out of…whatever this was. Whatever else the crystal had done, he felt as if he'd been asleep for several days. Something was fogging over his mind, preventing him from thinking clearly.

After quickly wrapping his hand in toilet paper, he made his way into the kitchen. True to his old apartment, there was a pristinely-kept first aid kit underneath the sink, tucked behind the piping. He made a makeshift tourniquet and began to stitch his hand, just as another thought popped into his mind.

He didn't have the Sharingan. If he really was in the past, then the Kannabi Bridge mission hadn't happened yet, which meant—

Obito was still alive.

And not only Obito, but Rin, Minato, Kushina, and all the others he had lost over the years. He temporarily abandoned his stitching to glance at the calendar and found that today was the day he was supposed to go on the Kannabi Bridge mission.

A dozen new thoughts sprang from the grave of the last, but he pushed them all down. Fate was decidedly _not_ that kind and he needed to get out of there. He threw on his mission gear and left the apartment as fast as he could.

As he walked through the streets of the city, trying to come up with a plan, Kakashi felt like he was stuck in a dream. Everything looked the same as it did before Pain destroyed Konoha, which was both familiar and chillingly foreign. He had grown up on these streets, but this was not his Konoha. His Konoha had seen a whole other war, had been turned into dust and rebuilt from the ashes. In _his_ Konoha, he was a powerful Hokage who'd helped defeat one of the greatest evils the world had ever seen.

In this Konoha, he was a wandering, distressed teenager, stuck seeing ghosts every time he turned the corner—those who had not survived to see _his_ Konoha. He had to escape this. Before this madness escalated any further, he needed to go to the Valley of the End.

(Make Believe)

The spontaneous trip all the way to the Valley of the End was, as it turned out, a complete bust. The valley always radiated a certain… _energy_ , but beyond the mystical aura of the historical events that had already transpired there and the perhaps prophetic knowledge of what was to come, everything was normal. It was completely intact, unlike in the present ( _or future_ , he supposed) time and completely devoid of any malicious chakras, crystals, or signs of Team Seven.

There were many times in his life that Kakashi had felt unprepared. All of those paled in comparison to now.

So, he decided to kneel down on the grass and talk to Rin as if he was at her grave. It was the only thing he could think of to do.

"Hello, Rin," said Kakashi. He surprisingly didn't feel too awkward talking to an empty field like this. Sure, there was no grave marker, but a slab of stone and a casket didn't mean that Rin was listening any more than she was now. Grave Rin, the one he had spilled his heart to so many times before, had always been a fabrication in his mind, one he carried over to now. "I think I might have time traveled."

The admission did not make him feel any better. Rather, for the first time, it made the whole scenario feel real. He was in the past. He was _stuck_ in the past. Everything he had worked for had vanished with one touch to a mysterious, pink crystal.

Another frightening trail of thought wedged into his mind. What if there had never been a future at all? What if the whole thing was just a dream—all twenty-four years just a figment of his unconscious imagination? Maybe a prescient warning, maybe just a delusion…

But no, that made even less sense than time travel. No one's dreams were that detailed or complex. Dreams were vague at their best and absurdly abstract at their worst; he had detailed memories of an entire two-and-a-half decades. Besides, he would find out soon enough anyways. At some point (he was already going to be late), if he truly was stuck in this timeline, he _would_ need to meet Minato, Rin, and Obito at their rendezvous point for their mission. The thought of seeing them again—his old team alive and whole—made his heart ache.

Yet another idea entered into his mind, more terrifying and exhilarating than all the rest. What if he had been given a chance to change everything? After all, this was the day that started the progression to the Fourth Ninja World War and his own personal downward spiral. He could save Obito. Even further than that, he could save Rin, Minato, Kushina, and so many others who were taken far too soon. He could stop the Akatsuki from turning evil, expose Danzō and Orochimaru, and maybe even stop Black Zetsu before the Kaguya crisis even occurred.

The entire world was at his fingertips.

But fate was _not_ that kind.

"Changing everyone would be dangerous," he mused aloud. "Even though a lot of people died, we still won the Fourth Ninja World War. If I changed anything, we could lose."

 _But you could win_ , said the dangerous, little voice in the back of his mind. _And save thousands of people._

"That's a huge risk." He was glad that the Valley of the End had a tendency to be void of visitors. If someone had heard him arguing with himself, they might have thought that he'd lost his mind. Hell, maybe he had. "What if I erase Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura from existence?"

What had even become of his three protégés? None of the three had been born yet, and according to his calculations, only Sakura's mother was even pregnant. Had they simply dissolved in the stream of time, without a body to return to? Had Sakura's adult mind landed into the unfortunate state of a fetus? Had they all been sent to another universe entirely?

Those questions didn't help either.

 _They might travel back at a later point_ , said the voice. _You might not have to do this alone forever. Besides, Sakura's mother_ _is already pregnant. You can't erase her from existence. And Naruto's and Sasuke's births are destined. You can save everyone._

He thought about his students: Naruto, who was good and saw the good in everyone, the man he was eventually going to trust with the Hokage position; Sakura, strong and caring Sakura, who just wanted to save people and be loved; And Sasuke, who had finally come around, the prodigal student who had finally returned, just as fiercely determined as he'd ever been. They were all stubborn and had their faults, but he was so proud of the three of them, and the loss of them made his heart ache in a way he didn't know it could. He had lost people before—he had lost a _lot_ of people—but losing the three of them felt like losing a child.

 _They might come back. You can save everyone_.

"Fate is not that kind," he murmured. "This is too perfect, going back to the date of the Kannabi Bridge Mission."

The day everything went so wrong.

 _You can't do things exactly the same as last time, anyways,_ said the voice. _You're a different person than you were then. You'll do something different, because you won't remember how you did it the first time, and you'll change something without even meaning to. You might as well change things willingly._

_After all, are you really going to watch Obito slip away again? Kill Rin with your own hands? Watch Minato and Kushina be maimed by the Nine-Tailed Fox?_

But what would become of _his_ Konoha? Had sending Kakashi back in time erased it from existence? Or was it still carrying on in another universe, suddenly lacking a Hokage and three of its most powerful assets?

Tsunade was going to kill him, though he was pretty sure he was never going to see _that_ Tsunade again.

All of the worrying started to flood him, tightening his chest in a way that made him feel like he was suffocating. He had so many questions, but not a single answer.

_You can't go back. The crystal is gone. No matter what has happened to Team Seven or Konoha, you are stuck here._

The whole scenario felt too contrived. Even with the ridiculousness that came along with time travel, what was the likelihood that he'd get sent back to this date?

If this did have something to do with Kaguya, which he had very little doubt of at this point, what if this was her plan? If she sent Kakashi back to the day he regretted most, what if she was banking on him changing things, giving her another chance to win?

But then again, what choice did he have?

"I have to change things," he said. "Rin, I think I'm meant to save Team Minato. Maybe I'm meant to save everyone. If I stop the Fourth Ninja World War before it even starts, I could cut down the body count by _thousands_."

At some point, he would need Team Seven. Naruto's and Sasuke's fates were undoubtably intertwined with Kaguya, so to stop that, he had no doubt that those two would be needed. Worse comes to worst, if they never came back, he could always train Team Seven again from scratch.

Still, he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. He wasn't sure he had the heart to go through that fiasco again.

Was it best to keep the time traveling secret to himself? Or was it best to key in Minato, so that they could work on changes together?

For now, Orochimaru, Danzō, the Akatsuki, Zetsu, and all the other plagues of the world would have to wait. At the moment, only one mission mattered: saving Obito. The trip to the Valley of the End had already made him wildly late to the rendezvous. Hopefully, Team Minato hadn't left without him.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," said Kakashi. If Tsunade knew what he was about to do, she'd probably find some way to revoke his title of Hokage due to poor judgment and stupidity. "But Rin, I'm going to fix this."

(On Seeing Ghosts)

When he reached their designated meeting spot, a good two and half hours late, he was relieved to see that the other three members of Team Minato were still there. The sight of his former team was doing a number on his emotions, so for the sake of keeping it together, he decided to not go out just yet. Instead, he settled for watching them from afar.

Obito sat on the grass, free of the Curse of Hatred that would soon grip him. He was fiddling with his goggles, like he always did when he had to wait for long periods of time, and it reminded Kakashi strongly of Naruto. In his former team's comparison to Team Seven, he always fancied himself the Sasuke to Obito's Naruto. But, in the long run, it had turned out just the opposite.

Kind as he remembered her, Rin's smile shone across the clearing. She was laughing at something either Obito or Minato had said, but there was an undertone of worry in her eyes, no doubt wondering where her third teammate had wandered off to. Kakashi loved her, but not in the way that she loved him—that right belonged to Obito. Besides, Kakashi was a decidedly different person than he was the first time around. He was not the Kakashi she loved. Hopefully, that would be enough for her romantic love for him to dissipate.

And then there was Minato. Never before had Kakashi appreciated how little the Hokage monument did his sensei justice. The stone face immortalized on the cliff face in Konoha did hold his strength and unquestionable sense of strong leadership. However, the pride and liveliness in him, apparent even as he stood casually by his students, was something beyond what the stone could capture. Minato looked exactly like a Hokage should, and briefly, Kakashi wondered if the citizens in _his_ Konoha saw similar qualities in him.

They were all so untouched by the tragedies that would soon befall them that it made Kakashi's chest ache again. In a couple months, Rin would die. In a year, Minato would join her. In a day or so, Obito would fall to something much worse than death.

Their innocence made him all the more determined to save them. Taking a deep breath, because his heart was racing and _here they were, alive,_ Kakashi made his way across the field.

"Kakashi!" said Rin, jumping up off the grass. "Where have you been? Are you okay?"

"Sorry," he said, without really sounding like he meant it. He was completely wrapped up in the exhilaration of _they were alive, they were alive_. "I lost track of time. Are we ready?"

"How did you lose track of time?" asked Obito incredulously. "You're never late to _anything_."

"Being late isn't so bad." Thirteen-year-old Kakashi would never have said his, but as weird as it would be for them, he had to get them used to thirty-seven-year-old Kakashi. "After all, predictability isn't a good trait in a ninja."

"What happened to the rules and regulations?" asked Obito.

"I'm a Jōnin now," said Kakashi. "I'm supposed to rely on experience more than rules."

"So you're just…over the rules?" asked Rin.

"The rules provide a good groundwork for being a ninja." Kakashi's three students had personally broken every ninja rule ever created. A good number of those instances had been bad, particularly when they pertained to Sasuke, but a good number had been for the better. "But life, missions included, is much too complicated to outline in a set of rules."

For a moment, none of his teammates spoke as they looked at each other apprehensively. Rin put her hand to his forehead, checking for a fever, but when she found his skin cool, she looked at the other two and shook her head. Finally, Minato broke the silence.

"Kakashi," he said. "Are you...okay?"

"Fantastic." It was the most honest thing he'd said all day. Talking to them was like a dream.

"Right." Minato continued to look at him for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether or not he was truly in his right mind. "Just try to be on time from now on. We _are_ in the middle of a war."

"My apologies, Sensei."

"Well, I intended to do this two hours," said Minato, shooting another look at Kakashi. "But like he said, Kakashi has become a Jōnin, just like me. To make the mission more efficient, myself and his team will be split, since the military power of Konoha has hit an all-time low."

"Split?" asked Obito, furrowing his eyebrows. "Then—"

"Yeah, that's right. Kakashi will become the commander of your three-man team and I'll be on my own."

"I told you about it before, Obito," said Rin, frowning at the boy. "To give Kakashi a present."

"Sorry," said Obito, perhaps looking a little less sour than he did last time. "I wasn't listening."

"I'll give you this," said Minato, pulling the familiar Flying Thunder God Kunai out of his pocket and dangling it off his pointer finger. "It's a special kunai. It's a little heavy because of its odd shape, but when you get used to it, it's easy to use. Take it with you on today's mission."

That, at least, put the "it was all a dream" theory to rest. There was no way his subconscious mind could have predicted that Minato was going to give him a funny-shaped kunai.

"Thanks," he said, as Minato handed it to him, fulling planning on utilizing the tool this time if need be.

"This is from me," said Rin, grinning as she held out a small box. "Here! It's a personalized medical bag. You've improved so much that it should be easy to use!"

"Thank you." He smiled back at her as he took the box from her hands. "I'll put it to good use."

Kakashi turned to Obito, who was looking at him with a mix of defiance and attempted apathy.

"I know you didn't get me anything," said Kakashi. "So for my Jōnin present, just be careful today. We have to watch each other's backs."

"Seriously," said Obito, looking at him like Kakashi had just announced that he was planning on living the rest of his life as a turnip. "What is your problem?"

"I'm sorry," said Kakashi sarcastically. "Would you rather I wish ill on your wellbeing?"

"It's _weird_."

"Well, if something happens to you today, you won't be able to buy me an _actual_ Jōnin present." _Also, I'll regret it for the rest of my life and you'll turn very, very evil._ "And 'teammate death' on the file might hurt Rin's chances of being promoted." Minato gave him a faux-stern look. "And, of course, Minato-sensei would miss you."

Rin giggled and even Obito cracked a bit of a smile, much to Kakashi's pleasure.

"Okay, we need to get started," said Minato, pulling out a map. "We're at the country border, which is this line. Currently, the Earth Country is invading the Grass Village. That's this line." He pointed a little further up the map. "Of course, the enemy are Rock ninja. We have intel that suggests that there's already about a thousand ninja at the enemy's front line.

"Our current mission is here." Minato pointed at the bridge. "We'd need a lot of ninja to hit the enemy's front line. Because of that, a few selected ninja must go and sabotage them."

"So we need to get to the bridge," said Kakashi, having completed this mission before. "And destroy it."

"Yes. Team Kakashi…your mission is to sneak behind the enemy and destroy the bridge that they need to receive supplies. Then, withdraw quickly."

"Okay," said the three in unison.

"What about you?" asked Obito.

"I will engage the frontline directly to divert them away from you." Minato put his hand in the middle of the four. "This is Kakashi's first time as commander. We'll go to the border, and from then on, the mission begins."

The other three placed their hands on top of their sensei's. "Okay!"

(The Bridge)

The mission up until the bridge was embarrassingly easy. He knew he ought to not be so hard on himself for messing it up last time, as he had more than two decades' worth of experience this go around, but most of his mistakes seemed glaringly obvious. Though his strength, stamina, and chakra supply weren't as good as they were in his previous lifetime (he'd have to train those back up), his jutsu knowledge, chakra control, battle sense, and leadership skills more than made up for the difficulties last time.

So instead of acting like a jackass, he let Minato take the lead in taking out the rock ninja. Consequently, the enemy ninja was killed with relative ease and no one in their party was injured. When Minato finally split off, Kakashi made it clear to Rin and Obito (who were still uneasy about his sudden change in personality, but did not push the issue further, as they just wanted to get through this mission alive) that they were to watch each other's backs no matter what the circumstance. Rin was not taken hostage, Obito was saved from "death," and they were able to set up camp in peace.

Despite this, there was a lingering awkwardness among the three. He expected that from them, given his sudden personality change. He also knew that he'd most likely feel the same way, given that he was almost forty and his friends were barely teenagers. There was another layer to it, though—something holding him back that he couldn't quite explain. Looking at them felt like looking at a movie screen. He could see their faces and hear their voices, but he shouldn't have been able to reach them. Breaking through that fourth wall felt like interrupting something that was never meant to happen in the first place.

Still, not a moment went by when Kakashi wasn't afraid it was all a dream. He couldn't return to _his_ Konoha, that much he knew, but what frightened him more was the notion that he might not want to. More than words could describe, he missed Team Seven. However, Team Seven had the opportunity to join him here, while Team Minato was forever gone from his original life.

However, those were worries best tucked away for later. A lot had happened today, both physically and emotionally, so he would need to wait for a clearer head and a bit of time to sort through the majority of his thoughts. Kakashi instead focused his efforts on the bridge, knowing that taking it down would be a much more difficult task than the act of getting to it. If he didn't think things through perfectly, the mission would go south fast.

"We need to discuss our strategy," said Kakashi, that night. "Destroying the bridge is crucial for Konoha. If we fail, Konoha could lose the war. Because of that, you both need to do exactly as I say."

"We've got your back," said Rin, before lightly elbowing Obito.

"Right." Although Obito still looked irked about being ordered around by Kakashi, he seemed to be warming up a little. "You're the boss."

"We won't be able to just approach the bridge," said Kakashi. "As there will be too many ninja. The bridge will also have a warding jutsu, so if we place an exploding tag, they'll immediately know of our presence."

"So…how are we going to destroy it?" asked Obito.

"I'm going to sneak underneath it and break through the center of the bridge using a jutsu." The Lightning Cutter wasn't safe enough to use as an assassination jutsu without a Sharingan, but for a target as stationary and large as a bridge, it was fine. "It won't completely demolish the bridge, but it will get the process started. While I'm distracting the ninja on top, Obito, you'll place exploding tags on the eastern end of the bridge, ignite them, and get out of the way immediately. I'll then destroy the western end of the bridge—"

"Why not destroy the western end the first time?" asked Obito. "Instead of destroying the center?"

"If I destroy the western end," said Kakashi. "They'll know that someone is going to destroy the eastern end. They'll surround me and take you out before you can even do anything. But, if I destroy the center of the bridge, I can distract the ninja on both sides and cause enough chaos to give you a chance to place exploding tags undetected."

"What will I do?" asked Rin.

"You'll be on standby, a good distance away from the bridge, just in case either of us gets hurt. But, more importantly, you will be in charge of guarding a log."

"A log?" asked Rin, confused. "What does a log have to do with anything?"

The log was, in fact, the riskiest part of the whole plan. Using the Lightning Cutter twice in rapid succession would be taxing enough on his thirteen-year-old body. After destroying the bridge, he and Obito would need to escape quickly and quietly. So, he planned on pulling a Minato and using the Flying Thunder God Technique, with the log containing the seal. Granted, he had never actually _attempted_ the technique, but Kakashi had become quite adept at fūinjutsu over the years and he saw Minato's teleportation performed several times with his Sharingan. It didn't need to be executed with any of the skill and grace Minato possessed; it just needed to get them out of there.

"The log has to do with everything," said Kakashi, though he didn't dare elaborate. His teammates would think he was insane and start to doubt the plan, which he couldn't afford. "Can I trust you with the log?"

"Yes," said Rin hesitantly. "Isn't this a bit risky? You taking on all of those ninja by yourself?"

"I'll be fine," said Kakashi. "We only have to stay for as long as it takes for Obito to destroy his end of the bridge."

Honestly, he didn't want Obito and Rin near the fight at all. He'd seen Obito die once on this mission and the thought of losing them both again was nearly unbearable. He didn't want the catastrophe he'd prevented to go to waste.

However, he knew he couldn't protect them forever. They were ninja—soldiers who had volunteered to lay down their life for their village. They knew what they were getting into when they accepted their rank and headband.

Still, they seemed so damn _young_.

"Obito, as soon as you've lit the exploding tags, race to the western end of the bridge and grab onto me. Any questions?" They shook their heads. "Then tomorrow, we take down the Kannabi Bridge."

* * *

As Kakashi waded through the water under the bridge, careful to avoid detection by the multiple rock ninja above him, he had to admit that he was a little nervous. Everything he had worked for in the past twenty-four hours came down to this moment. If they didn't destroy the bridge, all three of them could die and Konoha could very well lose the war. He didn't even want to think about all the changes that would come from that.

Once he was strategically under the bridge, he looked out into the forest, first at Obito's location near the bridge and then Rin's location further down the river, to verify that they were still in position. Satisfied, he readied his hands, jumped upwards, and slammed through the top of the bridge, his Chidori leading the way.

As Kakashi steadied himself on a piece of the bridge that wasn't currently falling, there was a tense, brief moment where all of the enemy ninja were frozen, stunned by the image of a thirteen-year-old spontaneously ripping through the surface of the bridge. Kakashi used the opportunity to erect a Water Wall around himself, using the water from the river. A few of the rock ninja were pushed back from the force of it and all hell broke loose.

Due to his lower chakra levels, particularly after his teenage body's first proper use of the Lightning Cutter, the wall wasn't as strong as he would have liked. Only a few seconds into the chaos, a rock the size of his head was launched through the barrier and nearly collided with his shoulder. From the sound of the voices outside of the barrier, the number of ninja surrounding him had quickly risen to forty, and his barrier definitely wouldn't withstand that amount of force.

Using some of the water from his barrier, he created a Water Shark Bomb Jutsu and circled it blindly around the wall. He couldn't see the damage, exactly, but he heard a significant amount of yelling, so that had to mean something. A few, brave ninja managed to enter the barrier in the chaos of the giant, water shark, but Kakashi had been prepared for that too. Using his free hand, he unsheathed the White Light Chakra Sabre and began to funnel lightning chakra down its blade.

"Who wants to go first?" asked Kakashi, with feigned innocence.

As expected, all four ninja went at him at once, but Kakashi was better. Almost immediately, he was able to stab clean through one of the shinobi and use his body as a shield against the other three's attacks. He shoved the body of the ninja (who had died rather quickly from the injuries inflicted by both Kakashi and his own comrades) into the others to distract them, before sending a water shark into them as well, forcing them back outside the circle.

Clearly, the Rock ninja had been prepared for a large squad, not a one-man army.

Then, like music to his ears, he heard an explosion from the eastern side of the bridge. Quickly making sure no one was directly in front him, he used the last of his water barrier to send out water clones in all directions as a decoy, while he dove to the opposite end of the bridge and plunged through it with another Chidori.

He tumbled into the water below and a falling piece of bridge hit his left shoulder and broke it. Gritting his teeth in pain, he looked around for Obito amidst the dozens of falling rock ninja. Between the exploding tags on one end and the Lightning Cutter on the other, the bridge was quickly collapsing.

Finally, he saw Obito sprinting towards him, dodging the debris as he went. The few rock ninja who were conscious and alert chased after him.

"Grab my hand!" yelled Kakashi.

Obito got to Kakashi just in time, for had he gotten there any later, they would have fallen victim to an onslaught of kunai. But as it was, Kakashi grabbed his hand and teleported them both away before further harm could be done. They appeared in the forest next to Rin.

"Kakashi!" said Rin, standing up in alarm, clearly not expecting him to just appear out of thin air.

His vision was starting to blur over and he knew he wouldn't last much longer, so with the last slice of his energy, he threw Minato's kunai at a nearby tree and said, "Get us out of here."

(Veni, Vidi, Vici)

Kakashi awoke sore and out of breath. Struggling upwards, he took several gasping breaths of air.

"Easy, Kakashi," said Minato, who was sitting next to him, legs stretched out on the grass. "You're safe."

"Obito and Rin," said Kakashi quickly. "Are they—"

"They're safe, too," he said, nodding towards a spot further on in the clearing where Obito and Rin sat deep in conversation. "But you need to get better control of your chakra. Chakra exhaustion can be a dangerous thing."

Kakashi was very aware of that fact, given that he had once died from it. However, none of that mattered. Kakashi was so deeply relieved that he burst into raw, deep, loud laughter. It clutched at his chest, bringing a lifetime of regret and pain to the surface. Years of torment over this mission, all erased with a few right moves.

"He's awake!" said Rin, jumping up from her seat and bolting towards them. Obito followed suit. "How are you feeling? You broke your shoulder at the bridge, but I put it in a sling and gave you something for the pain."

"I'm fine," he said, smiling at her concern. "Nothing a little sleep and time won't fix."

"I was telling Minato Sensei, you were incredible. I've never seen half of those jutsus you used."

"Where did you learn to use the Flying Thunder God Technique?" asked Minato, with a suspicious curiosity.

"Watching you, of course," said Kakashi. "I doubt I'll ever be able to use it half as well as you do, but it got Obito and I out of a tight spot."

"Forget about teleporting," said Obito. "Where did you learn to make a water shark?"

"Of all things," said Kakashi, with a humored smile. "You're impressed that I can make a shark out of some water?"

"It's a _shark_ ," said Obito, as if this were supposed to explain everything. "I mean, yeah, I guess the teleporting and the thing you used to cut through the bridge were cool…but a _shark_."

Kakashi shook his head. "What happened after I passed out?"

"Well, Minato showed up," said Obito. "It turns out, that kunai he gave you was like the log. It summoned him when you threw it. Anyways, we grabbed you, came back here, and Rin fixed your shoulder."

"The bridge was completely obliterated," said Rin. "And before Minato showed up in the forest, he defeated an army of one _thousand_."

"Two victories were won today by Konoha," said Minato, smiling. "With any luck, this will turn the tide of the war."

"I hope so," said Rin. "I wish this war would just end already."

Everyone gave brief noises of agreement and Minato said, "Rin, Obito, I need to talk to Kakashi alone for a minute."

The two wandered back to their place on the grass and Minato turned to Kakashi.

"Kakashi, are you okay?" he asked once again. "You've been…off the past couple of days."

"In what way?" stalled Kakashi, giving himself time to think of an excuse.

"Nothing _bad_ ," said Minato. "You're certainly more relaxed. And your plan for the bridge today was good, but it wasn't something you'd normally come up with. Normally, your plans involve an equal amount of risk for everyone and a play to everyone's strengths, but today—" Minato paused, clearly trying to word his point delicately. "—you prioritized your teammates' safety heavily over your own."

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," said Kakashi. It was the only plausible explanation he could come up with regarding his sudden change in behavior. "About the war. About what matters in the world. About what peace means."

"And?"

"If you had to put it into words," said Kakashi, looking over at Minato. "Why is Konoha fighting this war? Why has Konoha fought in any of the Ninja World Wars?"

"To protect our way of life," said Minato slowly, wondering where this was going. "And the people of our country."

"And the other countries, why do you think they're fighting?"

Minato thought for a moment. "Probably the same reasons."

"We all want the same things," said Kakashi, nodding. "All the ninja villages, at the heart of the issue, just want to protect their people and give them the best life they can. We all handle this in different ways. Some ninja villages, in pursuit of this goal, see other ninja villages as the enemy. But when it comes down to it, none of us have to be the enemy."

"So, what are you suggesting?" asked Minato, a smile tugging at his lips. "World peace?"

"Not quite," said Kakashi. Though the Shinobi Union was a reality in his timeline, he didn't blame Minato for seeing it at ridiculous. A few years before the Fourth war, Kakashi couldn't even have pictured it. "Just peace between the five main ninja villages. If we all joined together and talked out our issues diplomatically, we could focus our efforts on the issues outside of our control: terrorists, organized crime groups, that kind of thing."

"That's an optimistic goal."

"It is," said Kakashi. "The other villages have a lot of anger towards Konoha, some of it more justified than others. Whether we want to admit it or not, Konoha _does_ have a power imbalance when it comes to missions. That's not our fault, but it is causing the other villages to suffer. An inequality like that is not something the ninja villages, when founded, accounted for. That, of course, leads to anger, which leads to blame, which leads to the war we've found ourselves in."

"So, what's the solution for that?" asked Minato, his curiosity becoming a bit more genuine.

"In this theoretical alliance," said Kakashi. "It is not unreasonable to assume there might be a committee that divides the missions fairly, based on which village has ninja that possess the talents for those missions, instead of which village has the biggest reputation."

"A lot of people won't like that," said Minato.

"No," agreed Kakashi. "But people like war a lot less."

Kakashi could tell Minato was entertaining it, which was good. If Kakashi could get an alliance started earlier than last time, it would be for the better.

"What does any of that have to do with Obito and Rin?" asked Minato.

"Not much," admitted Kakashi. "Regarding today's mission, I just care about them and don't want them to die."

"That's not the way a commander should be thinking about the ninja in his squad," said Minato, though he looked more sympathetic than his words implied.

"No, it's not. It's as selfish as it is selfless." Kakashi looked out to Obito and Rin, who were laughing together under the stars. "And that's a struggle I'll have to get under control. But, I had a bad feeling about today's mission, and I don't regret any of it."

"None of this is like you at all."

Kakashi smiled and didn't comment, instead asking, "Your mission…how did it go?"

"We won," said Minato. "It went better than any of us could have hoped."

Kakashi didn't figure it would go differently than last time, given that the factors hadn't changed much, but he had to be sure. With that battle secured by Minato's victory, Konoha was set to win the war like last time.

"I've been thinking, too," confessed Minato. "About peace."

"And?"

"I can't imagine all five ninja villages putting aside their differences to team up. But, I do think that this war is…misguided, in a lot of ways."

"And what would you do about it?"

"Win the war, to start. Do what I could to bring peace back to our village and ease the suffering of the people of Konoha, and then—" Minato smiled at him. "—well, your plan, however improbable, sounds nice on paper."

"Start making alliances with only a few villages," offered Kakashi. The last time around, Minato had seemed impossibly wise, but in reality, he was the same age as Kakashi's Naruto. At twenty-three, Kakashi knew that even people as great as Minato and Naruto had a lot to learn. If Minato was to be Hokage, he needed to start thinking about things like this. "Not everyone hates us as much as some and some hatreds won't last as long as others."

"That's a possibility," said Minato. He could see the wheels turning in Minato's head, not quite taking it all seriously but not dismissing it either, wondering how he could fix the world. However, he seemed to quickly realize where he was and who he was talking to and he snapped out of it. "You should get some rest. You've had a long day."

Kakashi was too tired to argue. Later, he would have a lot to plan out, but for now, he laid down on the grass and rested in the peace of his victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand, that's a wrap! Thanks for sticking around for this monster of a chapter, and please consider leaving a review! Reviews are what make the world go round (and the chapters come out motivatedly faster). Have a lovely rest of your day and we'll see y'all next time!
> 
> Fun Fact of the Chapter: In the very beginning stages of planning this fanfic, we only knew that we wanted to write a time travel fic. We had no idea what era and method the time traveling would use. This idea, the one that we ended up choosing, was originally second to last on our ranked list of ideas, only just ahead of Laser Beam's joking suggestion of "send everyone back smack dab in the middle of the chunin exams." In the end, though, I think we made the right choice. Life's funny like that.
> 
> Now, some notes, for those of you still here:
> 
> 1\. This story is split up into "arcs," so to speak, the first of which is approximately seven chapters. For the first seven, we're going to just release them as we finish them, and if our viewer base stays relatively small, we'll continue with that. However, if our viewer base gets moderately sized and fairly consistent, we're probably going to switch to finishing an entire arc all at once, and when all the chapters are ready to publish, we'll release them once a week like a television season and repeat that with each arc.
> 
> 2\. This fanfic is (to the best of our abilities) canon compliant with the manga and will borrow from the anime/movies/books/whatever on earth they are doing with Naruto nowadays as necessary, but not religiously. Also, as those of you who've ever had to work with the Naruto timeline before can empathize with, the timeline of events that the Naruto author created, particularly when it comes to events that happened before the start of the series, is a jumbled mess. We did our best to create a consistent timeline with the details given, but that interpretation might differ from some of yours. Also, the Naruto canon is quite vast, and I can't promise that we won't forget details at some point, and we've had to create several details of our own about the Naruto world, as the story will cover things and go places that the original series did not. We only ask, when it comes to the technical details, you have patience with us.
> 
> 3\. Regarding chapter songs (the ones that come after the AKA in the title), we recommend you listen to them just because we think it adds to the tone of the story, but they are in no way a necessity. So, listen to them or don't listen to them; either way, we'll never know.
> 
> 4\. Also, we don't own Naruto, just in case anyone was confused about that or assumed otherwise.


	2. Blame it on a Lot to Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, y'all! Thank you dearly to everyone who reviewed and kudo'd last chapter. We think the world of you.
> 
>  **A warning about timeline issues:** the details that the Naruto series mentions about the events that happened before the first episode are mathematically impossible, as far as dates go, and there are a lot of things that don’t make sense in the slightest, so we did our best to create a chain of events for this story to revolve around, and took some liberties here and there. So, if you’re really passionate about the strictness of canon details, we ask that you be flexible. We picked a timeline and we’re not changing it now lol.
> 
>  **Also, warning about character details:** There are a lot of characters in this series who really weren’t given a lot of screen time or continuous development, and a lot of characters who did have a lot of screen time weren’t given near enough development as they should have, so we added in a lot of non-contradictory-to-canon-mostly details to flesh out the world and keep these characters interesting and ever-evolving. So, if you see something about a character that makes you think “hey, that wasn’t in Naruto” (and there are a lot of these in this chapter, but you probably noticed them in the first chapter, too), we know. We’re doing it for the narrative, yo.
> 
>  **Last warning, we swear—the content warnings—so prepare yourself accordingly:** Brief and non-graphic mentions of addiction.
> 
>  **Previously, on Once More with Feeling:** The night before Sakura’s and Sasuke’s wedding, Team Seven goes on a mission to the Valley of the End and finds a mysterious, evil crystal. All four of them touch it, causing Kakashi to wake up twenty-four years in the past—the day of the Kannabi Bridge mission. After he realizes that there’s no way for him to go back to “his Konoha,” he decides to change this new timeline for the better. Kakashi prevents Rin from getting captured, saves Obito from “death,” and destroys the Kannabi Bridge. Now, without further ado...

**Chapter 2:**

**Blame it on a Lot to Do**

**AKA**

**“We Used to be Friends” by The Dandy Warhols**

(Nothing Like Hell)

“Nothing brings people together like hell.”

Sakura had uttered those words three years ago, curled against the bookshelf in his office with a stack of paperwork in her lap, helping him with administrative duties because she claimed that she had nothing better to do. There was a cynical sharpness in her voice and an uncharacteristic bitterness to her smile that struck him then, so much so that he remembered the conversation after all this time. October 10th brought out an air of melancholy in everyone—memories of the Fourth Ninja World War still looming over them—but combined with an offhand comment from Naruto a few weeks ago that Sakura had been turning down plans with her friends on a regular basis, something in Kakashi clicked.

 _No,_ he thought then, mistakenly, perhaps wishfully, shrugging off that thought. _It’s probably just stress_. After all, she’d been putting in insane hours at her clinic, immersing herself in the trauma and troubles of others. And, Naruto and Ino, her two best friends, had been spending most of their free time with their new wife and boyfriend respectively, leaving her with just a man who had vaguely pledged himself to her two years ago and hadn’t been seen by her since.

Three months later, when she showed up on his doorstep at two o’clock in the morning, drunk and high out of her mind, sobbing as she confessed to him that she’d been self-prescribing opioids because she couldn’t sleep through the night without nightmares of the war or go through a day of work without flashbacks, he kicked himself for justifying away his suspicion of PTSD. But in the office, his social awkwardness triumphed over his concern, and he didn’t say anything.

“If you had told me eight years ago that I would fight side-by-side with the Sound Village, I would have never believed you,” she had continued, hesitating her pen over the bottom of the page in front of her. “I was so stupid back then. I thought the evilest thing in the world had to be the thing that took Sasuke away from me.”

Kakashi shrugged. “If you had told me twenty years ago that I’d be fighting side-by-side with the Mist or the Rock, I would have never believed you. I don’t think any of us could have predicted that there was something worse than humanity.”

“You don’t hold a grudge.”

“No,” he had said, after a moment. “After—” _I inadvertently caused the Fourth Ninja World War, killing forty thousand people_. “—everything that happened, it’s hard to hold one.”

She gave him a look out of the corner of her eye, one that told him she knew what he wasn’t saying, but she didn’t comment on it. It was one of the reasons why he didn’t mind her company on a day he usually preferred to spend alone, he realized now as a pang of grief struck him; she never pressed on matters he didn’t want to talk about.

“You’re better than me, then. If Orochimaru walked through those doors, I’m not certain I could remain civil.” Sighing softly, she forged his signature on whatever document she had been withholding it from. “Still, peace _is_ nice. It took the threat of the world ending, but hey—” She had grinned sincerely then. “—nothing brings people together like hell.”

“No,” he had agreed. “Nothing like hell.”

Standing in front of an apartment he had never visited but knew the location of all the same, he hoped her words were correct—that hell (or, at least, the warnings of it) would be enough. Still mourning the loss of her, the loss of all three of his students to wherever they had disappeared, he clung onto her words, using them to summon his courage for the awkward conversation he was about to have.

That morning, when he tried to formulate a plan on how to proceed, he came to three conclusions. First, with some careful planning, he could probably gather enough evidence to take down Orochimaru and Danzō, he could probably get to the Akatsuki in time to save them and convince them not to become a criminal organization, he could probably keep Obito and Rin safe, and he could probably prevent Minato and Kushina from dying next October. What he could _not_ do, realistically, was accomplish all those things by himself in the span of a year.

Second, there were only two powerful ninja on the planet that Kakashi trusted unconditionally with the knowledge of the future, believing that they would never, under any circumstances, betray Konoha, could mostly put aside their personal involvement to do the right thing, and were insane enough to go along with helping him. One of them was likely sitting in a casino somewhere half a world away and would have to be tracked down, but Jiraiya, much to Kakashi’s luck, had the day off and was in the village.

Third, though Kakashi and Jiraiya had never been close, and he didn’t know what emotional strings to pull to make Jiraiya trust him, he did know the one thing that intrigued Jiraiya beyond all else— _information_. And, if nothing else, Kakashi had more useful information than the rest of the world combined.

 _Nothing brings people together like hell_.

Kakashi knocked on the door.

(The Real Beginning Pt. 1)

There was no pleasure on earth greater than writing—the art of delicately arranging words to create something that was beyond the self. Of the entirety of humankind, even. Nothing was more rewarding than creating a story that reached the very core of the people who came across it, causing a shift, an _enlightenment_ , in their soul.

At least, that was the sort of pretentious bullshit that Jiraiya told himself when, after an hour and a half of work, he only had three paragraphs to show for it. They weren’t even _good_ paragraphs, looking back on them. They were stiff and clunky, and his abuse of punctuation was probably a crime.

“Do I even like writing?” asked Jiraiya aloud, putting his head in his hands.

Fuck that. Women were by far a greater blessing to the world than prose. Hell, he could even make a good argument for a mediocre piece of fried chicken.

What was he even laboring for, anyway? His first book had been a commercial failure (the only people who enjoyed in, as far as he knew, were Minato and Kushina, and he still wasn’t sure if that wasn’t just out of pity), so he doubted the sequel would fair any better. One was supposed to write for themselves, sure, but an audience was a good motivator.

A knock on his door interrupted his angst. He considered ignoring it, not in the mood for company, but he eventually frowned at his manuscript, tossed it onto his kitchen counter, and opened the door. To his surprise, Kakashi Hatake was standing on the other side of it.

Kakashi’s resemblance to his father was uncanny, particularly as he had gotten older. Granted, Jiraiya had never seen the bottom half of his face, but the likeness was enough to irritate a long-suppressed undercurrent of grief. Years ago, before Jiraiya started spending an extended amount of time outside of the village and Sakumo Hatake died, they had been close—even rivaling Jiraiya’s friendship with Orochimaru at one point. But, from what Jiraiya had noticed during his limited amount of time around Kakashi, Kakashi’s and Sakumo’s personalities could not have been more different.

After the initial moment of shock, Jiraiya noticed how _sick_ Kakashi looked. Lined with exhaustion, his face was paler than usual, save for the purple bags underneath his eyes. His right hand was bandaged and his left arm hung limply at his side, both likely damaged on his previous mission.

“Hey,” said Jiraiya, leaning against the doorframe. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you this, but you look terrible.”

“Thanks,” said Kakashi dryly. “Can I come in?”

Stepping out of the doorway, Jiraiya let Kakashi in and nodded his head in the direction of his dining table, where they both sat down.

“Have you been in the village long?” asked Kakashi lightly.

“Just a couple of days. Your team got back yesterday, right?” asked Jiraiya, playing along with the small talk even though he already knew the answer. For the past twenty-four hours, the village had buzzed nonstop about its own Yellow Flash defeating one thousand Rock ninja and destroying the Kannabi Bridge, reigniting a spark of hope in everyone that the war might not end with Konoha’s destruction. Of course, Minato hadn’t actually destroyed the Kannabi Bridge, that particular victory belonging to his students, but no one who knew better was bothering to correct anyone; Minato single-handedly turning the tide of the war made a nice narrative.

“Mhmm,” said Kakashi, before slumping down in his chair and resting his head on the back of it, his eyes fighting to stay open.

“You ever consider going to a hospital?” asked Jiraiya, half-worried that the kid was going to pass out in his kitchen.

“If you think my injuries are bad, you should see the bridge,” he said, and Jiraiya was certain that was the first time he’d ever heard Kakashi tell a joke.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, just long enough for the moment to verge on awkward as Jiraiya waited for Kakashi to disclose the reason behind his visit, before Kakashi reached into his bag, pulled out a bottle of sake, and slid it across the tabletop towards Jiraiya. Jiraiya examined the bottle to find that it was, strangely, his favorite brand.

“It’s an apology,” said Kakashi, before Jiraiya could inquire. “For what I’m about to ask you.”

Normally, the dramatics of teenagers were easily excused, but there was something about the situation that unnerved Jiraiya. Despite the fact that Jiraiya was usually an expert at reading people, he was unable to gather anything from Kakashi other than “sick.” Kakashi’s face was perfectly neutral and unemotional. He was masking something, undoubtedly, but Jiraiya couldn’t tell what.

“Sure,” said Jiraiya, shrugging and putting on a poker face of his own. “What’s up?”

“I want to propose a trade. I have information that you’ll be interested in, and in exchange, I want you to consider helping me deal with said information.”

“Information on what?”

“Nearly everything and everyone you could possibly want information on.”

 _He’s being dramatic_ , Jiraiya told himself, trying to settle the unease pooling in his chest. It might have worked if Jiraiya had been able to ascertain _anything_ about Kakashi’s mental state—confidence, fear, deceit, even the detached gaze that came from being controlled. Just _something_. The impassiveness on his face, in his body language, and in his demeanor rivaled the skill of particularly accomplished ANBU members.

“I know this is a weird,” said Kakashi, leaning forward and placing his arms on the table. “It’s been a really weird few days. But, if you’re wondering, about now, give or take a few days, the Rock has decided to surrender. The Mist has decided not to. A peace organization, started by the orphans you took in about thirteen years ago, is gaining significant notoriety. The Raikage is considering locking his adoptive brother—the Eight-Tales’ host—inside of Kumogakure to protect him, and the Third Hokage is considering retirement. Madara Uchiha, who is less dead than everyone thinks, is watching most of this unfold. And, that’s only the beginning.”

 _He’s baiting me into something_ , thought Jiraiya, and unfortunately, it was working. Several pieces of Kakashi’s monologue stuck out to him—the Rock’s surrender, the Ame orphans, the Third’s retirement, _Madara being alive_ —and a thousand questions sprang up into his mind. If Kakashi, somehow, wasn’t just making shit up, he had already given him more valuable information than Jiraiya had been able to dig up in the last six months.

“How could you possibly know all that?” asked Jiraiya.

“That’s where it gets weird.”

“Try me.”

Kakashi paused for a long, tense moment, but his stony façade never once slipped, much to Jiraiya’s chagrin.

“Okay,” said Kakashi. “I’m actually thirty-seven. Three days ago, my former students and I touched a crystal that drained all our chakra and sent me back in time into my thirteen-year-old body. You are one of only two people I trust with this information, and I intend to sit down with both of you and explain what happens in the next twenty-four years, so that the three of us might do something about it, if you’re willing.”

Jiraiya didn’t know what he had been expecting, but that sure as hell wasn’t it. “You’re bullshitting me,” he said, refusing to even process that.

“Do I seem like the bullshitting type?”

“There’s no such thing as _time travel_.”

“Three days ago, I would have said the same thing. But, here I am, thirteen again.” Kakashi paused. “Look, I wouldn’t believe me either, so I’m not expecting blind faith. I fully intend to show you proof.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m assuming you’re aware of Konoha’s attempts to genetically embed people with Hashirama’s genes to give them the Wood Release?”

Forced to actually sort through the barrage of information that Kakashi had thrown at him in the last minute and a half, Jiraiya concluded that Kakashi must have lost his mind, snapping under the pressure of war and jōnin life. Jiraiya was willing to buy into a lot of things, having experienced premonition weirdness in his own lifetime, but time travel was a special level of outlandish.

Still, a terrifying, almost dizzying, thread of doubt lingered in his mind. Even if Kakashi had taken a train straight out of reality, that didn’t explain how he knew about the Ame orphans or the Wood Release experiments.  

 _I have to get more information out of him_ , thought Jiraiya. Evidence, one way or another, would sort this out.

“I am,” said Jiraiya.

“After they were deemed forbidden due to their one-hundred percent mortality rate, someone, unbeknownst to the Third Hokage, continued these experiments in secret in a lab just outside of Konoha, using sixty kidnapped children. When the failure rate didn’t improve, that person abandoned the lab, leaving the remaining kids to die.”

“You want to show me a lab full of dead kids as proof that you’re from the future?”

“One of them survived,” said Kakashi. “Unbeknownst to the owner of the lab, and is currently trapped alone in a test tube and in need of rescue. The kid’s name is Tenzō, and he is…was, will be, whatever, a friend of mine.”

“Who does the lab belong to?”

“That’s…a conversation best saved for later,” said Kakashi.

Though Jiraiya was not pleased that Kakashi was withholding information that important (assuming, of course, the story of the lab was true), he conceded to let it go temporarily. “How do I know you’re not involved, and that’s why you know about it?”

“Who would recruit Minato’s manically rule-abiding student, who has no medical knowledge beyond the basics required for all ninja, for illegal, genetic experiments?”

That was a fair point, though it only added to Jiraiya’s disquietness. “If you really know everything, tell me about the orphans.”

“Their names are Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato. You, Tsunade, and Orochimaru stumbled across them some years ago. I don’t know the exact date; the person who told me this story wasn’t that detailed. Orochimaru suggested that you mercy-kill them, but you took them in instead. Yahiko and Konan were talented, but you thought Nagato, with his Rinnegan, was more special. You thought he was the prophecy child, replacing your earlier suspicions that it was Minato.”

Kakashi’s accurateness didn’t sway him. “Tell me about their peace organization.”

“They’re called the Akatsuki,” said Kakashi. “At least, that’s what they would be called at some point. They want world peace, and they’re currently operating out of a hideout in Ame. They’re amassing a lot of influence—too much, if you consider the fact that someone outside of Ame is petitioning for Hanzō to aid in their demise.”

“What country wants them gone?” asked Jiraiya, struggling to see how, in the midst of a world war, a random peace organization in a country out of combat could be relevant to a nation’s interest.

“It’s not a nation,” said Kakashi. “Not really. Just one guy who really likes meddling in other people’s affairs to forward his own extremism.”

Kakashi was clearly withholding a name again, but Jiraiya was at least able to infer a few things. Though this person was acting alone, he was still in a position of power somewhere (“not a nation—not _really_ ”). And, though Kakashi’s tone never fluctuated, his wording strongly suggested that he had a personal beef with this guy.

Everything Kakashi had said so far, every move he had made, was exceedingly calculated and impartial, so Jiraiya had no doubt that Kakashi meant for him to pick up on those things. Given those deductions, there was only one reason Kakashi might leave that person nameless, despite his apparent hatred of him—likely, the same reason he wasn’t telling him who owned the lab; he wanted to avoid Jiraiya starting a conflict with whomever was behind it. For that reason, the man had to be local, close enough for Jiraiya to immediately confront him. If his first inference was correct, he was a member of Konoha’s government, acting alone behind the Hokage’s back, which meant it could only be…

_Danzō._

_Shit._

Being a writer, Jiraiya could appreciate a good tale, and he had to admit, it was a good one. It was exactly tailored to his interests, featuring promises of priceless information, a dangerous threat to his prophecy child, and an insidious plot inside the village from those who would wish to harm it. If it had come from someone else, Jiraiya would admit to it being the perfect lie—that the storyteller had been out told, if only for a moment.

However, this was Kakashi, who was known for caring far more about lawfulness than personal gain. Who spent nearly all of his time with Minato, and therefore couldn’t have found the occasion to randomly ascertain information about Jiraiya that no one person had all the knowledge of. Who was known for being as narratively creative as a sack of potatoes. Sure, he could tell a convincing lie to fool an opponent—all great ninja could—but this went far beyond the average manipulation. If it had been anyone _but_ Kakashi…

But, it wasn’t, and with a chill going down his spine, Jiraiya realized that there was a chance he was telling the truth—that time travel might just be real.

“The guy and the lab,” said Jiraiya slowly, still trying to emotionally deal with that revelation. “They connected?”

Kakashi allowed a smile into his eyes, confirming Jiraiya’s suspicions that he was meant to draw his own conclusions. He had to give it to him; even if Jiraiya doubted that he could craft a story of novel proportions, Kakashi was certainly good at mind games. “He’s not the owner, no, but they are connected. Like I said, he likes to meddle.”

So, Danzō was helping someone conduct illegal experiments. Danzō was going behind the Third’s back to contact enemy leaders. If Jiraiya had to guess, judging from Kakashi’s reaction, that wasn’t the end of Danzō’s treasonous escapades. Either of those things alone, if backed up with proof, would be enough to start the process of taking Danzō down. However, that task would leave Konoha’s government in shambles, which could completely destroy Konoha’s current upper hand in the war.

If he had a modicum of evidence, he could at least warn the Third to trust Danzō less, but all Jiraiya had were assumptions about the subtext in Kakashi’s vague warnings. Which, he suspected, was exactly what Kakashi wanted, for whatever reason.

But, he was done with the cryptic back and forth. There was no point in going any further without knowing if the lab was real.

“I’ll go with you to the lab,” said Jiraiya, suppressing his want to ask more questions. “But, if you play any tricks, if you’re baiting me into something, I will kill you without even thinking about it.”

“I know,” said Kakashi, standing up and grabbing his bag. “I wouldn’t expect any less from you. Besides, I’m suffering from chakra exhaustion at the moment, so I couldn’t really pull anything even if I wanted to.”

“What’s in the bag?” asked Jiraiya, gesturing to it.

“Nothing,” said Kakashi, opening it so Jiraiya could see its lack of contents. “We’re going to need something to sneak the kid back into the village with.”

“You’re going to shove your old friend in a workout bag?”

“If you have any better suggestions, I’d love to hear them,” said Kakashi sarcastically. It was no surprise to Jiraiya that Kakashi, with a newfound sense of humor, would have a dry one. Sakumo, though much more personable in general, was the same way. “If not, are you ready?”

“Let me grab my weapons,” said Jiraiya. “I don’t know what you do in your spare time, but I’m generally not packing when I’m lazing about my apartment.”

Standing up and wandering into his bedroom, Jiraiya allowed himself a quiet moment of prayer to the afterlife.

_Sakumo, if your kid fucks me over, I’m going to be pissed._

* * *

 

If Kakashi was telling the truth about the time traveling thing, he had definitely been ANBU in his previous life.

Being a spy, Jiraiya considered himself an expert at stealthing and tracking, and he expected to have to do some compensating for Kakashi as they sneaked to the lab, to make sure no one noticed them. However, Kakashi kept up easily, and his hearing and sensitivity to noises were even better than Jiraiya’s. When they finally got to the entrance of the lab, Kakashi was the one to check for traps and found a seal in the door frame, though Jiraiya had to be the one to dispel it and hold the foreign chakra in his palms until they could reseal it on the way back, as Kakashi couldn’t muster enough chakra to do so.

(“ _Don’t worry,” Jiraiya had teased. “Lots of men have trouble performing under pressure.”_

 _“Speaking from experience?” Kakashi shot back._ )

Once they could safely open the door, Jiraiya was immediately hit by the smell of death, and any mood to banter further was lost.

“Damn,” whispered Jiraiya. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Unfortunately not,” said Kakashi softly. “Are you ready?”

“After you,” said Jiraiya, holding open the door.

With the smell of decay as their only hint of direction, Kakashi confessing that he didn’t really pay attention to the layout the last time he was here, they slowly wandered around the halls for several minutes, trying to find their way through the rusted, door-lined labyrinth without setting off any traps. Some of the doors were cracked open and they could see vast collections of dried-up vials and chemical stains. Part of Jiraiya wanted to investigate, but the threat of toxic fumes and the sense that they had bigger fish to fry kept him from stopping.

Several twist and turns later, they came face-to-face with the largest part of the lab—the hall where the human experiments were conducted.

Sixty human-sized test tubes were in six lines along the length of the hall, but most of them were shattered, surrounded by shards of glass and the bodies of the kids they once contained. The corpses were all in various stages of rot; some of the kids had only perished weeks ago, while some of them had clearly been dead for some time. The smell was so thick that Jiraiya could hardly breathe, and he was suddenly jealous of Kakashi’s mask.

Near the back of the room, in the only unbroken container left, a young boy, no older than ten, was submerged in green liquid, completely naked, his eyes wide in terror. In a sudden rush of both horror and anger, Jiraiya realized that the other kids must have been awake as well, eternally stuck in this macabre prison, surrounded by the decomposing bodies of their fellow prisoners until death finally showed them enough mercy to take them, too.

“Damn,” said Jiraiya again, unsure of what else to say. “This is…”

“Terrible,” finished Kakashi, his jaw locked firmly into place, and there was murder in his eyes. For the first time, he had let something, besides his annoyance at Jiraiya, slip through. However, he quickly reigned it in, and Jiraiya had a feeling Kakashi had seen some shit in his previous life. “Tenzō’s alive. That’s what matters.”

“I’ll keep watch,” said Jiraiya, taking off his red jacket so Kakashi had something to wrap Tenzō in. “He’s your friend, and you look less threatening than I do.”

Nodding, Kakashi made his way down the hall, carefully avoiding the bodies, though Jiraiya had no intentions of actually keeping watch for intruders. Instead, he watched Kakashi intently out of the corner of his eyes, trying to do a quick character study on the guy as he wrestled with whether or not to believe him. When Kakashi reached the test tube, Tenzō’s eyes grew somehow wider.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” said Kakashi, raising his hands in a placating sort of surrender. His tone was kind and reassuring, which surprised him, as Jiraiya would not have put ‘good with kids’ on a guess at Kakashi’s skillset. “Close your eyes and keep them shut, alright?”

Tenzō did as he asked. Grabbing a kunai off of his belt, Kakashi plunged it into the tube repeatedly in a neat circle, causing green liquid to spew out all over him, until he could carefully remove the chunk he had been working away at and squeeze Tenzō through the hole.

“Who are you?” asked Tenzō, opening his eyes now that he was no longer under water. “Are you the one that put me here?”

“No,” said Kakashi, helping him stand and gently wrapping the jacket around him like a blanket. Jiraiya wondered if Kakashi had kids in his other life. “My name’s Kakashi, and I’m going to make sure the people who put you in here will never touch you again.”

“I don’t know my name,” said Tenzō, panicking. “I don’t remember anything.”

“It’s alright. Your name is Tenzō.” Kakashi pointed at Jiraiya. “And that’s Jiraiya. He’s a friend who is _supposed_ to be keeping watch, but instead is far more interested in looking at me.”

Jiraiya flipped him off, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia. His sudden tenderness towards Tenzō made the comparison to Sakumo even greater, a mirror to how Sakumo acted towards Kakashi when he was young. Combined with the dry, bitchy sort of quips that made him feel like you had taken up a wife instead of friend, flipping off Kakashi felt like old times. If he didn’t hate Kakashi on principle for dragging him into this weird, time travel conspiracy, Jiraiya might have even felt some fondness towards him.

“There were others,” said Tenzō, scanning over the fallen children with a far-off look in his eyes. “They’re all gone, and I—”

Whatever he was going to say, they never knew; Tenzō collapsed on the floor of the lab. Kakashi quickly took his vitals, and once satisfied, he gingerly placed Tenzō in the bag and walked back over to Jiraiya.

“He’ll be fine,” said Kakashi. “He’s just passed out.”

“Good,” said Jiraiya. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

* * *

 

The journey back to Jiraiya’s apartment was quiet and tense, as Kakashi seemed to have lost all will for light conversation, and Jiraiya was having a crisis.

Though it was completely insane, the evidence pointed to only one, terrifying conclusion; Kakashi was a time-traveler. Despite the madness, Jiraiya was actually starting to believe him. What else could account for the sudden personality change, omniscience, and increase in ninja abilities?

 _This is all your fault, Sakumo_ , thought Jiraiya. _Making me trust your stupid kid by association._

But, what did it affect him that Kakashi was a time traveler? After all, it wasn’t like Jiraiya’s life had to change. He didn’t have to do anything Kakashi asked. If he wanted to, he could live his life as normal and let Kakashi deal with his own problems.

Though, time travel did affect his entire outlook on how the universe and time itself worked, which was horrifying, and thinking about the implications of such a thing would no doubt become front and center of the existential thoughts he often had, for at least the next several months. Not to mention, now that he knew at least two people were betraying the village, his sense of duty would persevere in that regard, which was probably what Kakashi was hoping for.

“Should I put him on the couch?” asked Kakashi, when they got back to Jiraiya’s place, untangling the unconscious form of Tenzō from the bag.

“Put him on the bed,” said Jiraiya. “Who knows what was in that green stuff. I can change sheets easier than I can clean a couch.”

As Kakashi disappeared into his bedroom, Jiraiya got out a glass, hesitated a moment, grabbed another glass, and brought both to the kitchen table. By the time Kakashi had situated Tenzō, Jiraiya was already pouring from the gifted sake bottle.

“You want one?” asked Jiraiya.

“Please,” said Kakashi, sitting down.

Jiraiya poured another glass, slid it across the table, and picked up his own glass. “This entire thing is insane.”

Kakashi nodded and did the same. They both gave a quick “cheers” and downed their sake in one go. It was bad form, of course, to shot perfectly good sake, but by god if the situation didn’t warrant it.

“What are you wanting from me?” asked Jiraiya, already pouring himself another glass. Of all the people Kakashi could ask for help, why would he go to him? “What exactly are you hoping I’m going to do?”

“I don’t like asking for help,” said Kakashi. “And trying to explain the fact that I’m from the future is even worse, so trust me when I say that I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be. Konoha has a lot more enemies than just the countries we’re currently fighting against. In eighteen years, we’re going to have a war that makes this one look like child’s play.”

“Another world war?” asked Jiraiya.

“Yes,” said Kakashi. “But instead of fighting one another, all the nations will team up to fight against…well, the other side.”

“What group is going to be powerful enough to fight against the rest of the world?”

“That’s a long story,” said Kakashi. “A very long story that I would rather only tell once, when we’ve found the other person.”

Jiraiya mentally filed it away on his list of questions to ask later. “So, you want to prevent the war?”

“I don’t know if it can be prevented,” admitted Kakashi. “I’ve never been fond of the idea that bad things are destined to happen, but if anything is, that war is it. Nearly everything that’s happened in the past thousand years, including your prophecy—” Jiraiya’s heart leapt just a moment in the insanity. Kakashi knew who the Prophecy Child was. “—leads up to it, one way or another.”

“Is it still going on in your time?” asked Jiraiya, wondering what a war of that magnitude might look like—if Kakashi had perhaps come from a destroyed wasteland of a world.

“No, the Fourth Ninja World War only lasted for three days.” Jiraiya raised an eyebrow. “I know it doesn’t seem like a lot, but forty thousand people died and the world almost ended.”

“Considering you’re sitting here, though, I’m assuming you won.”

“We did,” said Kakashi. “In fact, we’re currently living in peacetime.”

“If you’re living in peacetime,” said Jiraiya. “Why time travel?”

“It wasn’t…purposeful. As I said, we accidentally touched a crystal, it drained our chakra, and I woke up here. If I could go back, I would.”

“Leave a lot of things behind?” guessed Jiraiya.

Kakashi nodded. “People, living in peace, the knowledge that the end of the world was behind us, that sort of thing.”

For a moment, even though he still hated Kakashi for bringing him into this, Jiraiya actually felt bad for him. Jiraiya was having a crisis just trying to accept that time travel was real. He couldn’t imagine what he’d be feeling if he had been the one who time traveled.

“You…doing okay?” asked Jiraiya awkwardly.

“Yeah,” said Kakashi, just as awkwardly. “I did most of my…panicking a couple days ago, so now it’s just…down to business.”

Jiraiya tried to think of something helpful to say, but found himself, like he had been all morning, lost for words.

“Right,” said Jiraiya, drinking some more sake instead. “If not the war, what are you trying to do?”

“I want to minimize the bloodshed on the way there,” said Kakashi. “As I said, forty thousand people died during the Fourth Ninja World War alone, and there was a lot of unnecessary, preventable death in the eighteen years leading up to it. Konoha’s still standing, but only because we completely rebuilt it.”

It sounded noble, but Jiraiya could see a major flaw in his thinking. “Have you considered that we might want to leave things alone?” asked Jiraiya. “If something we do causes us to _lose_ the war…”

“I have. But, if the war is destined, the one who is going to stop it is equally so.” Kakashi gave Jiraiya a significant look, and Jiraiya realized he was teasing the prophecy again. “Besides, even excluding the events of today, I’ve already changed something major, so there’s really no going back now.”

“If you’ve only been here for three days and have been on the Kannabi Bridge mission for all of them,” said Jiraiya. “What the hell could you have possibly changed?”

“It’ll make sense later,” said Kakashi. “It’s part of that long story.”

 _Damn him_. “Who’s this other person we’re talking to? Minato?”

“Minato is one of the most unconditionally good people I’ve ever met, but I’m not sure he can put aside his personal connection to the events of the next twenty-four years enough to not do something impulsive. He’s wiser than most, but he’s still twenty-three.” Kakashi paused. “The other is Tsunade.”

Jiraiya nearly laughed. “You think that _Tsunade_ can put aside emotional involvement better than Minato? You know that she’s—”

“Retired, terrified of blood, and gambling away everything she owns as a coping mechanism,” finished Kakashi. “I know. But, she doesn’t stay like that forever. She was the Fifth Hokage in my last lifetime.”

“Who the hell made Tsunade Hokage?”

“You did,” said Kakashi. “Because if not, they were going to make you do it.”

 _That was smart of me_. “What happens to the Fourth that makes Konoha succumb to that level of desperation?”

Kakashi hesitated, and once again, his aloofness slipped for just a fraction of a moment. _Pain_ , Jiraiya noted. _Kakashi is masking pain._ Something must have happened to the Fourth—death, if he had to guess. If the Third was planning to retire soon, Jiraiya knew him well enough to know that the position of the Fourth would come down to himself, Orochimaru, or Minato. Jiraiya, of course, wasn’t going to accept, and it wasn’t hard to guess which of the remaining two’s deaths would bring back painful memories to Kakashi.

As his blood ran cold, he did his best to push that thought away. If something _did_ happen to Minato, Jiraiya assumed it would be on Kakashi’s list of things to change. Even if not, he was damn well putting it on his own list.

Looking at the boy (no, _man_ ) in front of him, Jiraiya wondered what happened to Kakashi in the next twenty-four years. Most people, when given the opportunity to time travel, would either do one of two things: keep it to themselves and change a few regrets here and there or try and convince leadership of future horrors so that competent, experienced people could deal with them. Kakashi, however, was offering to lead a small, specialized task force to single-handedly save the world, confirming Jiraiya’s earlier suspicion. People didn’t go through that kind of masochism unless some serious shit went down in their lives.

“Were you in the ANBU?” asked Jiraiya, changing the subject.

“Thirteen years. Captain for ten, until they gave me a genin squad.”

“You said ‘former students.’ You didn’t go back after you were taken off their squad?”

“No, I wish. Tsunade thought that commanding a village through a world war was enough leadership for one lifetime and was desperate enough to make me her replacement.”

“You were the Sixth Hokage?” asked Jiraiya incredulously, though it wasn’t entirely unbelievable. Kakashi was a skilled ninja, and ten years as an ANBU captain and five years as a jōnin leader would give anyone decent leadership skills. If he had gained enough notoriety by the Fourth Ninja World War and the village still hadn’t managed to produce willing replacements, Jiraiya could see it.

“Really, I was just a placeholder until one of my students matured enough to become the Seventh. No one wanted nor deserved the title of Hokage more than him.” Kakashi sighed. “I was so close to handing it over and retiring, too.Now…” He gestured vaguely around him, and Jiraiya understood.

“Where did the crystal come from?” asked Jiraiya. “If someone has the knowledge to do _that_ —”

“I have a good guess of who put it there,” said Kakashi. “But as to how touching it caused this, I’m at a loss. It’s not in the spot we found it in this timeline, so I wouldn’t even know how to guess.”

Yup, time-traveling crystals were definitely going to do a number on his existentialism. It wasn’t enough that he laid awake at night wondering “what does life mean?” and “what is my destiny?” apparently. The universe had seen it fit to throw “if time travel exists in this world, does destiny as we know it even exist?” into the mix.

“If your students touched it with you,” said Jiraiya. “Where are they now?”

There it was again— _pain_. “I have no idea.”

Unable to think of anything helpful to say to that (because, really, had anyone ever managed to come up with something useful to say to somebody who’d lost someone?), Jiraiya poured him another glass of sake. With a thanks, Kakashi took a long drink.

“What the hell do you actually look like?” asked Jiraiya, moving on from the moment he’d accidentally caused.

Putting his hands together, Kakashi transformed into his thirty-seven-year-old self.

“Damn,” said Jiraiya. “You look _just_ like your dad.”

 _Well, almost_ , thought Jiraiya. Upon close inspection, his jaw line was a little narrower than Sakumo’s, and his nose was slenderer—two qualities that he’d inherited from his mother. Still, it was nice to pretend, if Sakumo had lived just a little longer, that’s what he would have looked like.

“That’s what they tell me,” said Kakashi, transforming back.

An insane part of him, the same part that got roped into believe in time travel in the first place, _wanted_ to find Tsunade with Kakashi. Sure, his ultimate purpose in life had been to train the Prophecy Child, but for all he knew, that was already finished. Maybe joining whatever world-saving team Kakashi was looking to throw together was his new destiny, and that’s why the universe had thrown Kakashi at his doorstep. Maybe that’s why he’d been in such a rut lately—in writing, in information gathering, and emotionally, truth be told. He’d been stagnated by fate _,_ all to prepare for this moment.

Besides, between wanting to save Minato and to find out, at last, who the Prophecy Child was, he couldn’t _not_ go.

“When does the war end?” asked Jiraiya.

“December,” said Kakashi. “We win, if anyone can be considered a winner in this war.”

“Am I necessary for the conclusion of the war?”

Kakashi shook his head. “I’m sure you know whose hands that’s in.”

“Then, I’m in,” said Jiraiya. “I’ll take you to Tsunade.”

“I appreciate that,” said Kakashi sincerely.

“The point still stands, though. If you fuck me over, I will kill you.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

Jiraiya leaned back in his chair. “I can leave the village for whatever reason I want to and get the Third to call it a mission, but I’ll have to talk to him about taking you along. He’ll be confused, to say the least. Maybe I’ll tell him that I’m taking you on as a spy apprentice.”

“I need you to, for future reason,” said Kakashi. “Convince the Third that Rin and Obito should not leave the village from here until the war ends for any reason. So, you could phrase it like you’re concerned that we might distract Minato, and since Minato is single-handedly carrying us out of the war at this point, it’s in everyone’s best interests if his full attention is given to the war. So, you’re taking me on as an apprentice, Rin would be good at the hospital, and Obito…”

Jiraiya thought back to the limited amount of times he had seen Obito, trying to figure out a good place for him. “Academy instructor?”

“That’s good, actually,” said Kakashi, after thinking it over for a moment. “I think he’d like the academy.”

“Why do sound so surprised that I had a good idea?” asked Jiraiya, determined to wear down Kakashi in order to win whatever banter battle they had going on. Besides, he was clearly entitled to some compensation for this whole experience, and relentlessly mocking Kakashi seemed like a start. “Oh, right, Mr. ‘I’m going to shove a small, injured child in a workout bag’ and ‘I’m going to trust Tsunade with the fate of the world,’ I forgot that you are so clearly at the top of the food chain when it comes to monopolizing good ideas.”

“What can I say?” asked Kakashi. “I’m a choosy beggar.”

 _Touche_. “Also, before we leave, we’re going to have to replace Tenzō’s body in the lab,” said Jiraiya. “Someone’s going to notice if there’s a broken test tube without a body.”

“I know,” said Kakashi. “But unless you plan to kill a nine-year-old, I’m not sure how we’re going to do that. The graveyard is usually well guarded. They’re going to notice if we start digging up graves.”

“I know the guy down at the morgue,” said Jiraiya. “I can see if—”

Before he could finish, there was a loud knock on the door, and both of their eyes went wide.

(The Calm Before the Storm)

Minato and Kushina had been awake for thirty minutes, still tangled in the warmth of their sheets and each other’s arms, and the silence in the bedroom was loud with things deliberately not being talked about.

Resting her head on her husband’s chest, Kushina tried to push the outside world from her mind. Minato’s calloused fingers were alternating between painlessly untangling the knots from her hair and drawing absent-minded patterns on her back, and it ought to have been easy to relax into his touch. She was _tired_ —from worry, from constant missions, from social isolation—and it was nice to pretend that they might could just lay in bed forever.

But, there was a silence in the bedroom, a far-away look in Minato’s eyes, that couldn’t be ignored. Her husband had a bad habit of retreating into his mind, torturing himself in an endless loop of stress, and she had to get him out of there.

“I’ve missed you,” said Kushina, craning her neck up to look at him. How long had it been since they’d gotten to spend a morning together? The early days of their marriage, before the war started, seemed like a distant fantasy.

His face softened. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Many ninja couples had a rule about one another’s work: unless it was brought up, don’t ask. Particularly during times of war, it kept their home lives from being ruled by the unrelenting chaos of missions and politics. Most days, this worked for Minato and Kushina, and they were content to shrug off their work life at the door for at least a few hours. But, Kushina was more impatient than most, and both had more responsibilities than most, so sometimes it didn’t work out the way it should.

“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Kushina, softly brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

“Not really,” admitted Minato. “It’s all anyone talks about. The last time I had a conversation that wasn’t about war was two weeks ago, when Mrs. Yamada told me how her carrots were doing.” The beginnings of a smile formed on his face. “They’re growing fine, by the way, if you’re curious.”

“Thanks,” said Kushina, rolling her eyes good naturedly.

“Even the kids are wrapped up in it. Not the carrots—the war.” Minato frowned. “I think it might have actually broken Kakashi.”

“What?”

“He was…weird on the Kannabi Bridge mission.”

“Weirder than normal, you mean?” she asked, trying to hide a smile.

“Yes,” he said, smiling in turn. “Weirder than normal. Nothing _bad_ , per se. In fact, he was… _pleasant_. He admitted that the ninja code was not as important as experience and instinct, came up with a plan that put Obito and Rin completely out of danger, and gave me a speech about world peace.”

Kushina was silent for a moment. “I don’t mean to alarm you,” she said, with a faux-seriousness. “But it sounds like Kakashi has come down with a serious case of ‘developing feelings.’”

“I mean it, Kushina,” said Minato, though he looked amused. “I didn’t say anything to him, because I just wanted the three of them to get through the mission alive, but I’m worried about him.”

“You shouldn’t be,” she said, moving herself up to kiss him on the forehead. “We’re all stressed out by the war, you know? If he got through the mission just fine, this is probably his way of coping. I’m sure we’ll all be back to normal once the war ends.”

“I hope so.”

“You know, Jiraiya’s in town,” she said, trying to take his mind off it. “We could go visit him, if you like.”

“I haven’t seen him in months,” said Minato. “We’d have to get out of bed, though.”

“It would be a shame.” She grinned. “But I’m sure we could manage by dinner.”

“I don’t know. Seems like a lofty goal.” With a sigh, his expression turned serious again. “How are you doing?”

There he was, in his head again. “No worse than anyone else, I expect.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” she said. She couldn’t take away the responsibility that had been thrust upon him, being the last beacon of hope that the village had, but perhaps she could give some hope back to him. Resting the weight of her upper body on her hand, she sat up. “There was something else I wanted to talk to you about, though.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” asked Minato, sitting up to meet her.

“Be _serious_ , you idiot,” said Kushina, laughing. “You’re not making this easy, you know.”

“Sorry,” he said, suppressing a smile. “What would you like to talk about, love?”

A wave of anxiety crept up inside of her, and she nervously twirled a strand of hair around her finger. It was an exciting decision, but it was terrifying, too.

“Do you remember what you brought up a month ago?” she asked. “About starting a family after the war is over?”

Minato froze. “Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking it over,” she said. “And I think we should.”

For just a moment, the shadow in his eyes disappeared and a dumbstruck smile crossed his face. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“No,” she said, renouncing her initial apprehensions. “Besides, there’s no better time for a ten month break than after a war. I could certainly use it, you know?”

Though their agreement to have a child felt monumental for them, they never would have guessed that it was one of the most important decisions that anyone had ever made. But, more on that later.

“You’ll have to go into hiding,” he said, the worry starting to return. “Just in case.”

“I know.”

“It will be dangerous.”

“You’re the one who suggested it, sweetheart.”

“I know,” he said. “I just want to make sure you don’t feel…pressured into this.”

“Minato, have you ever been able to convince me to do something I didn’t want to?” Cupping his cheek with her free hand, she kissed him. “I _want_ this. I’m terrified, but—”

His eyes locked with hers, and while the concern was still there, it was dwarfed by other things: excitement, love, _longing_ . At fifteen-years-old, she had been both frightened and intrigued by that look, afraid of the unknown that came with realizing that she might want to be wanted by a handsome boy. Somewhere along the way, that boy became a man, and the unknown had long since disappeared, but some of the initial butterflies remained, as if part of her had never left that darkened apartment eight years ago, still working up the courage to cross the edge of understanding. She wondered how, after all this time, she still managed to be afraid ( _I want this_ , she had said, though her choice then seemed inconsequential compared to the gravity of her current one). Yet, though they were both so different now, burdened by cares they didn’t have then, he never lost the kindness and gentleness that made her want to be brave.

She wondered if she ever made him feel fifteen again, too.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, kissing her back and interlocking her hand in his. “Together.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

In the true spirit of a lazy morning, the kiss started off slow, neither in a hurry to get anywhere fast. But, when Kushina’s lips moved across his jawline and she gently drug her teeth across the spot she knew he liked, his hands found her hips and pulled her towards him in a way that was decidedly less innocent.

“You know, I did say _after_ the war,” she teased.

“But if we don’t practice now,” said Minato, with faux innocence, pressing kisses on the place on her collarbone he knew _she_ liked. “We might not get it right.”

As if the universe was continuously trying to take away any shred of happiness they could gather in this stupid war, someone knocked on the door. Neither one of them moved, hoping it had somehow been a figment of both their imaginations. But, the knock came again.

“I should probably answer it,” said Minato.

“Probably,” she said.

Minato rolled off the bed, hastily threw on the clothing he had left on the floor the night before, and went to answer it, leaving Kushina to silently plead with the universe to show her some mercy and make it unimportant.

“Message from the Hokage,” she heard a voice say. “You’re needed on a mission immediately.”

 _Damn_ , she thought, her heart sinking. Wordlessly, she got out of bed and briefly entertained the idea of marching right up to the Third’s office and telling him off. She wouldn’t, of course, because today the world needed him more than she did, but the fantasy almost made her feel better.

“I’ll be right there,” she heard Minato say, before shutting the door. A moment later, he was back in their bedroom.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking both crestfallen and guilty.

“Not your fault,” said Kushina, putting on a smile she didn’t really mean. “There will be other days off, you know?”

Nodding, he walked up to her and kissed her one last time, hurriedly, as if it might be the last kiss they ever shared. Part of her hated when he did that, even though she did the same thing—it made the danger seem too real. More than that, though, she hated the part where they had to pull away.

“I love you,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“I love you, too,” she said, pulling him into a tight hug. “Please, please be safe.”

“Always.”

* * *

 

Determined to not let Minato’s departure break her spirits, she allowed herself ten minutes to be properly upset before deciding to visit Jiraiya by herself. Knowing that, if he was writing, he probably hadn’t eaten, she decided to bring breakfast along with her.

When Jiraiya opened the door, Kushina was immediately hit by the smell of sake, even though it was nine-thirty in the morning. Combined with the distressed look on his face, she figured his writing was going poorly. She was glad she brought food, in that case—it usually cheered Jiraiya up.

“Hey,” she said, smiling as she raised the basket in her arms. “I brought breakfast. And company, if you’re not too busy.”

“Breakfast,” he repeated, as if he’d never heard of such a thing, opening the door wider to let her inside. “Breakfast is…good?”

He looked over his shoulder as he asked this, and Kushina was worried that he had a woman in the apartment and she had awkwardly interrupted. However, when she stepped inside, she realized that he was talking to Kakashi, who was standing at the sink with a glass in his hand, still as a statue.

“The most important meal of the day, they say,” muttered Kakashi.

For some reason, his words seemed to terrify Jiraiya, who looked at her like he’d just received the worst news of his life.

“There’s enough for you, too, Kakashi, if you’d like some,” said Kushina, unsure of what else to say in the awkwardness of the moment.

“Breakfast is good?” asked Jiraiya again, never taking his eyes off her.

“Breakfast is good,” said Kakashi, never taking his eyes off the kitchen counter.

Kushina began to wonder if she had accidentally drifted back to sleep after Minato left and was in the middle of a very strange dream.

“Am I…interrupting something?” asked Kushina slowly.

“No,” they said in unison, and that seemed to snap them out of whatever trance they were in.

“Let me take that from you,” said Jiraiya, taking the basket it out of her arms and setting it on the counter, before pulling out a chair for her at the table.

“Thanks,” she said, taking it.

“I’ll make tea,” said Kakashi, who still didn’t make eye contact with her. “You have…tea?”

“Top shelf on the left.” Jiraiya began to unload the basket. “Grab some chopsticks, too, would you? Drawer on the right.”

With one hand, Kakashi filled a kettle with water, and with the other, he grabbed three pairs of chopsticks out of the drawer and tossed them to Jiraiya, who caught them with ease. Then, Kakashi put the pot on the stove and created the smallest fireball she’d ever seen over the top of it.

“Is the stove not good enough for you?” asked Jiraiya.

“It boils faster this way.”

“If you burn down my kitchen, I’m going to be pissed,” said Jiraiya, though he didn’t sound too concerned about it.

“Might do you some good,” said Kakashi, looking at the counter distastefully where a spot of mold was growing. “Your kitchen’s filthy.”

“If you’d like to clean it, be my guest,” said Jiraiya, placing a pair of chopsticks in front of Kushina and the other two pairs across from her. “But it suits me just fine.”

If someone had asked Kushina before she walked into the apartment, she would have sworn that Kakashi and Jiraiya had virtually no contact with one another. She had no idea what was causing the friendly, nearly domestic, scene in front of her.

“Minato got called away?” asked Jiraiya, bringing the food to the table.

Kushina nodded. “He left an hour ago.”

“Damn. I would have liked to see him.”

“You and me both,” said Kushina. “If the Third doesn’t give me my husband back soon, I might just kidnap him and be done with it.”

“Minato or the Third?” teased Kakashi, acknowledging her for the first time. Where there was usually a stern, sullen look in his eyes, he looked…kind. Happy, even.

“Either would work, I suppose,” she said, grinning. “I’m not sure which one Konoha would hate me more for at this point.”

“We could always frame someone else,” said Jiraiya. “Kakashi, for example.”

“Yes, I’m sure everyone would believe that,” said Kakashi sarcastically.

“Don’t underestimate my ability to frame people,” said Jiraiya, before turning back towards Kushina. “How’ve you been holding up?”

“I’ve been fine,” she said, resting her elbows on the table and placing her chin in her hands. Jiraiya gave her a shrewd look. “I mean, I’ve been sick to death of mission work, but so is everyone else. Every ninja in this village has been on missions nonstop.”

“Not that I’m not grateful,” said Jiraiya. “But you look like you should be resting instead of making people breakfast. You look exhausted.”

“I needed to talk to someone,” she admitted. “If I didn’t have a conversation about something other than war I was going to lose my mind.”

“Either way,” said Jiraiya, sitting down. “You’re far too good to me, and you’re definitely too good to Kakashi.”

“I’d be kinder to the person who’s making your tea,” said Kakashi. “It would be a shame if, say, wasabi was to accidentally find its way into your cup and I lost the good will to tell you about it.”

Kushina grinned and twirled a piece of her hair with her fingers. “I certainly didn’t mention this to Minato, because the last thing that man needs is more pressure in his life, but yesterday changed a lot of things, you know? I don’t want to jinx it, even though everyone’s already talking about it anyway, but things are looking much better for Konoha.

“And maybe it’s just desperation, but the war ending _is_ nice to think about, you know? We’ve fought for so long that it’s hard to remember what life was like before. So many people have died…if anything happened to this village…” _I’ve already lost one village_ , she thought, looking down at her lap, embarrassed that she’d unloaded so much.   _I don’t know what I’d do if I lost a second one._ “I don’t know. Maybe it’s stupid to hope.”

“I think the war will end soon,” said Kakashi, bringing three cups of tea over to the table and sitting down. “You’re right. Yesterday _did_ change a lot of things. As weary as Konoha is, the rest of the world can’t fight forever either.”

When Kushina smiled again, Kakashi gave her the oddest look. There was something there that was warm, close to fondness, which was uncharacteristic enough, but there was something melancholic about the way he looked at her, too. It was as if he was afraid that she might disappear through the floor at any moment, or that she reminded him of someone he once knew.

“You’re just full of fortune cookie wisdom, aren’t you?” asked Jiraiya, looking at Kakashi.

“Oh, stop bickering, both of you,” said Kushina good-naturedly, interrupting before Kakashi could retort. “If you don’t shut up and eat, I’m going to give this food away to someone who will appreciate it before it gets cold.”  

That did the trick, and they both began to eat.

“ _God,_ I’ve missed home cooking,” said Jiraiya. “I hope you know, when I’m too old to be useful, I’m moving in with you and Minato and stealing all your food.”

“Guess we’ve got to start preparing a spare room soon, then,” said Kushina, grinning, and Jiraiya shot her an exasperated look.

“This _is_ really delicious,” agreed Kakashi.

“Would you say…breakfast is good?” asked Kushina, not-so-subtly bringing up whatever happened earlier.

Kakashi and Jiraiya exchanged an unreadable look. “The most important meal of the day, they say,” said Kakashi.

“Or week, if you’re the one bringing it to us,” said Jiraiya.

“I would go as far as to say month.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she said, waving her chopsticks at them in a faux-threatening manner. “It’s not kind to tease a woman’s curiosity, particularly if you’d ever like said woman to bring you food again.”

“You’re cruel,” said Jiraiya. He hesitated a moment before continuing. “Kakashi and I are…going on a mission today.”

That was an odd. “Just the two of you? Did something happen?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” said Kakashi quickly, as if the last thing he wanted to do was make her worry.

“No,” concurred Jiraiya, in the same manor. “It’s just, you know, as good of a student as Minato was, he turned out to be kind of shitty at the whole ‘spy’ thing, and I need at least one person that I’m mildly confident could take over for me when I’m too old and living in your spare bedroom. So, Kakashi and I are having a test run.”

“When did this happen?”

“This morning,” said Kakashi. “He showed up out of the blue and asked me if I wanted to go on a mission to find out how good I was at gathering information.”

“And you just accepted instantly?” asked Kushina, finding the impulsivity completely out of character for Kakashi.

“I like a good challenge,” he said, shrugging. “Besides, it’s always good to learn new things.”

Looking at him with a frown, Kushina knew that the two of them were undoubtedly hiding something. If she had to take a guess, Kakashi’s personality change, Kakashi and Jiraiya acting like good friends even though they’d never spent more than five minutes talking to one another, and their sudden desire to go on a mission together to gather intel were connected.

Had Kakashi found out about something secret? It could explain his shift in mood, depending on what he found, and Jiraiya’s interest in making him his successor. However, it still didn’t explain why they had gone from exceedingly uncomfortable that she was even there to treating her like they were her doting, bickering dads.

Either way, if it related to some top-secret mission, she had no business asking any further questions. Plus, though she didn’t like to admit it, it was nice to be cherished a little, even if it was by the two most unlikely people she could have imagined would ever get along.

“You still look pretty injured,” she said to Kakashi. “Are you going to be okay to leave today?”

“He’ll be fine,” said Jiraiya, waiving it off. “If he can’t push through a couple of injuries, he’s not fit to be my replacement anyway.”

“Don’t you get him killed.”

Jiraiya snorted and rolled his eyes, and Kakashi looked amused, making Kushina feel like she had missed a bizarre inside joke.

Minato was right—this was weird. The Kakashi sitting in front of her was a stranger compared to the Kakashi she knew before. Like he said, it wasn’t _bad_ . He was in a better mood than she had ever seen him and ten times more personable. Talking to him felt less like talking to one of Minato’s students and felt far more like talking to someone like Jiraiya; after all, he’d been the one to console _her_. It was apparently infectious, too, because Jiraiya seemed less depressed than when she last saw him.

It wasn’t bad.

It was just so, so weird.

“I should go,” said Kushina, though she found herself not wanting to. As strange as this whole dynamic was, it was nice to be around. “You guys will want a good start before the sun sets to…wherever you’re going.”

“Thanks again for the breakfast,” said Jiraiya.

“Yeah, breakfast was good,” said Kakashi, cracking a smile.

If someone had asked Kushina before she came to the apartment, Kakashi would have been at the bottom of her ‘people who could make her feel hope again’ list. However, having lived through a lot, she was never one to be surprised when things didn’t always go the way she thought they would. Life was strange and so was Kakashi, apparently, and she left the apartment with a skip in her step and a smile on her face.

Of course, she didn’t even know the half of it. But, more on that later.

(The Final Nail in the Coffin)

Though it wasn’t even noon, it was already one of the longest days of Jiraiya’s life. Between struggling to write his novel, Kakashi telling him that he was from the future, going to the lab and finding Tenzō, believing that Kakashi was from the future, and having a late, awkward breakfast with Kushina, Jiraiya felt like he could easily pass out and sleep for three days.  

Walking into the Third’s office, he did his best to compose any remnants of a crisis off his face. His old sensei, for whatever reason, couldn’t know that something was amiss. Though he didn’t trust Kakashi yet, it was still a good idea to go along with the things he said until Jiraiya heard the full story, lest he mess up something that was objectively important.

“Jiraiya,” greeted the Third, and Jiraiya politely bowed his head. “You’re leaving again, I presume?”

“Got something I want to look into,” confirmed Jiraiya. “Don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“As usual, then,” he said, with a faint smile.

The two sat in a strained silence for a few moments.. “I—” began Jiraiya, at the same time the Third started to say, “There’s—,” and the silence resumed.

“You first,” said Jiraiya.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” said the Third, folding his hands on his desk. “To ask you, before you leave.”

“I’m listening.”

“After the war, I’m planning on retiring.”

 _Shit_.

“I know what you’re going to ask,” said Jiraiya. “The answer is no.”

“Jiraiya,” said the Third sternly, giving Jiraiya flashbacks to his genin days. He was having too many of those today. “You would make an excellent Hokage.”

Jiraiya nearly laughed. Everything he did ended in failure one way or another, with the one exception of training students (half of them were killed violently during missions, though, so even that was hit or miss). If the team Kakashi was looking to put together didn’t implode on itself within the month, it would be a miracle.

“I assure you, I wouldn’t.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“What have I ever done that warrants credit?”

“You trained Minato Namikaze,” said the Third.

“Then, you should make _him_ Hokage,” said Jiraiya. If Kakashi was right, that was going to be his choice regardless. “The people of Konoha love him. He’d do a good job.”

“He’s a bit young,” said the Third.

“He’s leading your army,” said Jiraiya, leaning against the door. “He’s kept a whole genin team alive for four years, which is better than I did. Sure, he’s inexperienced with politics and administration, but he’s level-headed and charismatic as hell, and as long as you aren’t planning to off yourself after the war ends, you’ll be there to show him the ropes.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, and Jiraiya braced himself for it, but the Third didn’t push it. “What was it you wanted to ask me?”

“Speaking of Minato, coincidentally,” said Jiraiya. “Since you and I both know he’s the ticket to winning this war, I think you should…retire him as a jōnin sensei, so the war becomes his full focus.”

“You think that they’re distracting him?”

“I think they could,” said Jiraiya. “And I think they eat up a lot of his time. If I were you, I wouldn’t gamble the lives of the people in Konoha on it.”

“You know him better than I do,” said the Third. “But he’s not going to like it.”

“He doesn’t have to like it.”

Standing, the Third turned away from Jiraiya and walked over to his window, looking out over the city. Jiraiya wanted to say something to break the tense air in the room, but conversations with the Third had been ceaselessly tense for a long time. Though the deterioration of their relationship had a clear beginning, it hadn’t been instantaneous. It was more like an untreated wound, festering in both of them until they argued more than they talked and until they just stopped talking altogether because they were tired of arguing. Somewhere along the way, he became “the Third” in Jiraiya’s head instead of “Hiruzen-sensei.”

Because when _she_ abandoned the village, the Third lost the only daughter he’d ever had, and Jiraiya lost the love of his life, no matter how unrequited that love remained, and both were looking for someone to take it out on.

“Do you still blame me for Tsunade leaving?” asked Jiraiya.

“Does it matter?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the village. “I doubt you would argue against the fact that we’ve had bigger failures since.”

“I wouldn’t,” agreed Jiraiya.

Jiraiya wanted to tell him that he was going to find her, to convince her to come back to the village, because there was still some fucked up part of him that wanted approval from the Third. Though Jiraiya was at the bottom of his ‘favorite students’ list, the Third was still the closest thing to a father he’d ever had.

With Danzō’s treachery on his mind, however, he held his tongue.

“Obito and Rin will be difficult to place,” said the Third, sitting back down as if nothing happened. “Neither one are ready to be a part of a non-training team.”

“I agree,” said Jiraiya. “Which is why I think you should keep them in the village until the war is over. Put Rin to work in the hospital and Obito to work at the academy. Both would be good at it, and it would let more experienced chūnin focus on the war efforts.”

“I suppose that would work,” said the Third. “Kakashi will be much easier to stick somewhere. ANBU would be a good fit for him.”

“Actually, I want to take Kakashi with me.” The Third raised his eyebrows. “Of all my students, none of them turned out to be good at the whole ‘spy’ thing. As well as Minato turned out, I need a proper successor, and I think Kakashi could have what it takes.”

“Have you discussed this with him?”

“I asked him if he’d be interested,” said Jiraiya, shrugging. “He was.”

“When will you leave?”

“Immediately.”

_Once I go to the morgue, that is._

“Very well.” Jiraiya bowed his head once more and turned to leave, but the Third stopped him. “Before you go—” There was an odd look on his face, and if Jiraiya didn’t know better, he would say it was fear. “—have you talked to Orochimaru lately?”

“No,” said Jiraiya slowly, confused as to where the question had come from. “Why—”

_Someone, unbeknownst to the Third Hokage, continued these experiments in secret in a lab just outside of Konoha._

_There was only one reason Kakashi might leave that person nameless…he wanted to avoid Jiraiya starting a conflict with whomever was behind it._

Kakashi had been quick enough to let on that the other conspirator was Danzō, knowing that, without explicitly giving a name, Jiraiya had no grounds to even think about doing anything. However, he still left the identity of the lab owner a mystery.

_Some of the doors were cracked open and they could see vast collections of dried-up vials and chemical stains…sixty human-sized test tubes were in six lines along the length of the hall…_

He had to have an vast knowledge of chemistry.

_One of them survived..._

And medicine.

_He’s not the owner, no, but they are connected. Like I said, he likes to meddle._

And was powerful enough to be noticed and trusted by Danzō.

 _The other is Tsunade_.

Kakashi trusted Jiraiya and Tsunade more than anyone else on the planet. Only the two of them, even though they traditionally ran in a group of three.

“Jiraiya, is something wrong?” asked the Third.

“No,” said Jiraiya, lying easily. “I was just trying to remember the last time I talked to him, but I can’t even recall. Is something wrong with him?”

“No,” said the Third just as easily, though Jiraiya he knew he was lying. After a question like that, how could he not be? How much did the Third know? “I just haven’t seen him in awhile.”

“Then, I’ll be off,” said Jiraiya, forcing a smile. “Take care.”

 _Motherfucker,_ thought Jiraiya, as he walked out of the Third’s office, not sure if he was talking about Orochimaru, the Third, Kakashi, or all three.

(Tsunade’s and Jiraiya’s Beginning. _Kind of._ ft. Thirty-One Years Ago)

Tsunade was losing, as usual.

“You know,” said Jiraiya, giving her back his cards as Orochimaru collected the small amount of money they had put in the middle as a wager. “For having played a lot, you really suck.”

“One more game,” she said, shuffling. “I bet you double I win this time.”

“Deal.”

Their disruptiveness was earning them some dirty looks from the large group of people surrounding them, everyone already bothered by the fact that someone had let three six-year-olds enter the chūnin exams in the first place. However, Team Hiruzen didn’t care. They were each obnoxiously cocky in their own way and confident that they had what it took to pass, so their competition getting irritated by their presence brought them a twisted sense of joy.

“I’m taking them out first,” mumbled a much older genin to their right.

Smiling, Tsunade dealt them a new hand. _Bring it on_ , she thought.

“Why are we doing this?” asked Orochimaru, frowning as he looked at his cards.

“Because I’m bored,” said Tsunade. “And my granddad said gambling is an important life lesson.”

“This is stupid,” he said, but he didn’t put his cards down.

They each drew and discarded one more time and then placed their hands face-up on the ground. Jiraiya triumphantly fist-bumped the air.

“Hah!” said Jiraiya to Tsunade, gathering the larger wager and putting it in his pockets. “You lost three times in a row.”

She glared at him. “Shut up, Jiraiya.”

“I don’t know if your grandfather told you this,” said an older boy, at least nine-years-old, coming up to the three of them and crouching down to see what they were doing. “But the whole point of gambling is to win.”

Tsunade moved her glare over to the boy, but he was smiling, and it was clear that he didn’t mean it unkindly.

“Want to learn?” asked Jiraiya, deciding that anyone who could cause Tsunade to glare at him less was a friend.

“Sure,” said the boy, looking at Tsunade. “If it’s alright with the gamemaster, of course.”

Tsunade rolled her eyes at the intrusion, but she moved farther apart to allow the new boy to join the circle.

“I’m Sakumo, by the way,” he said, smiling again. “Sakumo Hatake.”

“I’m Jiraiya,” he said, smiling as well, always glad to make a new friend.

“Orochimaru,” he mumbled, never glad to make a new friend.

“I’m Tsunade Senju,” she said, always glad for people to find out who she was. “You got any money on you?”

Sakumo dug through his pockets and pulled out an energy bar. “I have this.”

“Deal,” said Jiraiya, before Tsunade could object. “I’m starving.”

“You’ve got to win it off me, first,” he said, placing it in the middle, before turning to Tsunade. “You know, if you don’t stop playing for money, you’re going to drive yourself into debt.”

“I’ll win one day,” said Tsunade, determined fire in her eyes. “Just you wait.”

(The Real Beginning Pt. 2)

Tsunade was losing, as usual.

“God damn it,” she said, pushing her chips over to the dealer. “One more round.”

“I don’t know if your grandfather told you this,” said a voice behind her. “But the whole point of gambling is to win.”

She turned to see a silver-haired boy come up to the table and sit down. For a moment, she thought someone had managed to slip something in her drink, and she was hallucinating that a young Sakumo was coming to gamble with her. But, she realized that he was wearing a mask and that the face wasn’t _quite_ the same; the newcomer was instead his son.

“Kakashi Hatake,” she greeted, turning her eyes back to the dealer. “You barely came up to my knee the last time I saw you.”

“You haven’t aged a day,” he said.

“You in?” asked the dealer to Kakashi, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure,” said Kakashi, throwing some chips on the table.

She had a feeling that this meeting wasn’t by chance, and that, for some reason, he had been sent to find her. But, she didn’t sweat it. She could escape a thirteen-year-old.

“Blast from the past, huh?” asked a familiar voice behind her, filling her with dread. He would be much more difficult to shake off. “If we had Orochimaru, this would be the chūnin exams all over again.”

“What are _you_ doing here?” she asked, not looking at him as he sat on the other side of her.

“C’mon, what kind of greeting is that?” asked Jiraiya.

“Are you in, too, sir?” asked the dealer.

Nodding, Jiraiya put his chips on the table, and the dealer began to distribute the cards.

“Look,” said Tsunade, growing irritated and looking for the best way to escape. She knew where the emergency exit was in the back, but Kakashi and Jiraiya had her flanked. Unless she was looking to start a brawl in the casino, which would raise her debt significantly due to damages, she had to stay put. “Whatever reason the Third sent you here, you can tell him to fuck off.”

“Glad to see you’re as pleasant as ever,” said Jiraiya.

“Jiraiya,” warned Kakashi.

“We’re not here because of the Third,” said Jiraiya, examining his cards carefully. “We’re here because destiny screwed Kakashi over, and Kakashi decided to screw _me_ over by bringing me into it.”

“And how is that my problem?” asked Tsunade, looking at Jiraiya for the first time.

“You could make the argument that it’s everyone’s problem.” What the hell did that mean? “Also,” he said, lowering his voice so the dealer couldn’t hear. “I have a kid in a coma in this workout bag and we can’t wake him up.”

“You have a _what_?” asked Tsunade, looking down at the bag at his feet in alarm.

“Shhh,” said Jiraiya. “You don’t have to tell the whole damn casino.”

“I’m _retired,_ Jiraiya. Take him to the hospital.”

“What a simple solution,” said Jiraiya sarcastically. “If only I had thought of that before spending all this time tracking you down.”

“The hospital couldn’t wake him up?”

“No, we just…can’t take him there.”

“Please,” said the dealer, interrupting their conversation. “It’s time to put down your cards.”

They did as he asked, and Kakashi was declared the winner. Shrugging, he pushed his chips over to Tsunade.

“Keep them,” he said.

It was a weird gesture, but Tsunade was never one to deny free money. “What are you two trying to drag me into?”

“Just take a look at the kid,” said Jiraiya. “I don’t know anything about caring for coma patients, so if you don’t, he’s probably going to die.”

Though she had put medicine behind her, she really didn’t want a dead kid on her conscious. Besides, it would also be a good teaching opportunity for Shizune. Rolling her eyes, she lead the two of them— _well_ , three of them—back to her hotel room.

* * *

 

Jiraiya genuinely thought he had gotten over Tsunade. He hadn’t seen her in years, and he had dated plenty of women since her departure who he was fond of at the time. Tsunade was just a dream, a beautiful ideal (after all, he was a writer and therefore romantic by nature), one that shattered when she left.

He was wrong. He was _so_ wrong.

Seeing her again, even though she was curt and wanted nothing to do with him, brought back every feeling that he thought he’d buried.

 _So, what?_ he thought, as they walked into Tsunade’s hotel room. _You’ve been in love with Tsunade for over thirty years. Your life can just carry on as normal._

“Jiraiya!” said Shizune, eyes widening as she hopped off her bed to hug him. “What are you doing here?”

“Just have some business,” he said, patting her fondly on the back. Even though she was Dan’s niece, he saw a lot of her between the time Dan died and Tsunade left, due to the latter adopting her, and he bore her no ill will because of her familial affiliation. “Damn, you’re not so little anymore.”

“Almost fourteen,” she said, smiling.

Shizune turned to Kakashi, presumably to inquire about his identity. But, Tsunade, putting the bag on the bed and taking Tenzō out of it, interrupted before she could. “Shizune, I need you to help me with something.”

“Who is _that_?”

“That’s a good question,” said Tsunade, giving a pointed look to Jiraiya. “Today, you’re going to learn how to take care of a coma patient. Hand me a flashlight.”

Nodding, Shizune went over to a bag in the corner of the room, dug out a flashlight, and handed it to Tsunade. Manually opening Tenzō’s eyes, she shined the flashlight into each to examine them and took all his other vital signs.

“What happened to him?” asked Tsunade.

Kakashi nodded his head towards Jiraiya, wanting him to do the talking.

“He was the victim of genetic experimentation,” said Jiraiya. Tsunade looked at him incredulously. “We didn’t do it. We just found him.”

“Found him _where_?”

“In a lab outside the village. Someone—” _Orochimaru_ , said the evil voice inside his head, but he ignored it for his own sanity. “—has been kidnapping kids and playing with their DNA.”

“That’s awful,” said Shizune, gently brushing Tenzō’s hair out of his eyes.

As Tsunade looked over Tenzō, Jiraiya could see the wheels turning in her head. Pausing her examination, she pulled some money out of her pockets and tossed it to Shizune.

“Go get a snack,” said Tsunade. “Lesson will resume later.”

Surprisingly socially aware for a thirteen-year-old, Shizune asked, “How… _long_ …should I take to get a snack?”

“Give us twenty minutes.”

Shizune gave Jiraiya one last smile before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her. Her lips pressed into a tight frown, Tsunade moved Tenzō’s limbs into a less awkward position and sat crisscross on the other bed.

“Okay,” said Tsunade. “Explain.”

Neither Kakashi or Jiraiya spoke, each looking at one another with a look that said, “you take it from here.”

“It’s your thing, man,” said Jiraiya.

“I know,” said Kakashi, and then he turned to Tsunade. “This is going to sound crazy.”

“This is already crazy.”

Once again, Kakashi’s unreadable façade was planted firmly on his face. Jiraiya was starting to think it was more of a coping mechanism than a strategic move. “I’m here to ask for your help.”

“With more than Tenzō?” Kakashi nodded. “As I’ve already said, I’m retired. I have no interest in changing that.”

“The stakes have changed. There’s…a lot that’s about to happen, and it’s in everyone’s best interest if we prevent it. Yours included, even if you stay in retirement.”

“Stop talking in circles. What the hell is going on?”

Kakashi took a deep breath. “I’m actually a thirty-seven-year-old man who, through reasons out of my control, traveled back in time to my thirteen-year-old body. In the next eighteen years, a lot of people are going to die in preventable ways, including Shizune, at one point, and at the end of those eighteen years, there’s going to be a war worse than any of us have ever seen in our lifetime. I’m trying to prevent a lot of that, and I’m asking you and Jiraiya to listen to the story of what happens in the future and help me, if you’re willing.”

Her mouth falling open, Tsunade sat dumbstruck for a few moments before standing up. “ _What_?”

“I know it sounds insane,” said Jiraiya. “But he’s telling the truth.”

“You’re both insane,” said Tsunade, looking back and forth between them before looking off to the side. “I cannot believe I agree to help you. Sorry about the kid, but I’m out of here.”

“Wait,” said Kakashi. “If you listen to what I have to say—not even doing anything about it, just listening—I’ll pay back all the debt you owe in this town.”

Both Tsunade and Jiraiya raised their eyebrows. “Do you even have that kind of money?” asked Jiraiya.

“It would be nearly all of my life’s savings.”

“And whatever you have to tell me about the future,” said Tsunade slowly. “Is so important that you’re willing to blow all your savings on it?”

“Yes.”

“This is so—” Tsunade placed her head in her hands and took a deep breath. “Whatever. I can sit through a story for some money.”

Truthfully, that was easier than Jiraiya thought it would be. Though, he didn’t think that Kakashi was going to give her all his money and pull out the “Shizune is going to die” card either.

“When Shizune gets back, we should leave her in here to take care of Tenzō and go to our hotel room,” said Kakashi. “It’s not a story she should hear.”

(Taste of Hell)

“—so,” said Kakashi, standing up off the floor a couple of hours later. “Just as the crystal drained all my chakra, I woke up twenty-four years in the past.

“And that’s all,” he finished awkwardly.

“That’s all,” repeated Jiraiya, almost numb from how much his brain hurt.

Jiraiya was a smart man who liked gathering information, but that was more than he ever could have imagined. If Sage Mode was enlightenment, this was its evil twin. Sure, it was enlightenment, but at what cost?

Tsunade sat unmoving on Kakashi’s bed, her eyes glazed over like her consciousness had ascended to another plane.

“Any questions?” asked Kakashi.

He looked almost as messed up as they were, and Jiraiya could understand why. Reliving that had to be hell, particularly since it sounded like Kakashi had PTSD, despite his attempts to downplay it in his retelling. Even his expert poker face slipped a few times, and there were several moments he had to pause, as if the memories felt a little too real.

Both Jiraiya and Tsunade shook their heads silently.

“Then, I’m going to go check on Tenzō,” he said, and Jiraiya wasn’t sure if he was leaving for their benefit or his. Either way, he appreciated it, because he needed a break from Kakashi for a while. Sitting on his bed and forgetting about the outside world and anyone in it, if only a few hours, sounded very appealing.

Once Kakashi was gone, Tsunade seemed to slowly regain awareness of her existence. She looked down at her hands, opening and closing her fingers as if she had forgotten how movement worked. Then, she looked over at Jiraiya.

“Fuck you,” she said.

“What the hell did I do?” asked Jiraiya, surprised by the sudden outburst.

“You brought him here,” she said angrily. “You bought into this shit. You—”

“Look, I didn’t know what he was going to tell us.”

“But you believe him, don’t you?”

“Maybe I do,” said Jiraiya defensively. “He was right about the lab, he was right about the Third retiring, and even though that story was batshit crazy, there was _way_ too much detail for it to be something he just made up one day.”

“He’s taking _advantage_ of you,” said Tsunade, standing up. “You’ve always been so quick to believe in some… _grand destiny_. That all of this actually has some meaning to it. It’s how you got roped into your stupid prophecy, and it’s how Kakashi is roping you into some wild goose chase.”

“You used to believe in things, too,” said Jiraiya, standing as well. “There was a time when you actually gave a damn about something.”

“And look where that got me.”

“You’re not the only one who’s lost people,” said Jiraiya. He was quickly losing her patience with her, lacking the emotional energy to keep calm. “You’re not here because of your circumstances. You’re here because you gave up. Ten years ago, you were the best medical ninja in the world, and now—”

“I’m perfectly happy where I am.”

“Really? Because, you seem depressed to me.”

Her expression darkened, and for a moment, he was worried she was going to attack him. “Jiraiya, at some point, you’re going to have to accept that we all turned out to be fuck-ups. You are, I am, Orochimaru _clearly_ is.” She paused for a moment, as if the implications of everything were really starting to hit her. Luckily, she didn’t elaborate, because Jiraiya was not ready to let his friend’s betrayal sink in. “We never lived up to be the _great Sannin_ everyone thought we were going to be.

“The whole reason you want to go along with what Kakashi is saying is because you are _so desperate_ to try and be something better than you are. And, let’s be honest, the only reason you like him is because he looks and acts like your dead best friend, and this is some fucked up attempt on your part to replace him.”

“Maybe we are fuck-ups,” said Jiraiya. “But you’re not the person I thought you were if you’re content to just stop trying.”

Rationally, he should have just walked away. She was a grown woman who could deal with her own emotional issues, and he hadn’t even seen her in years. He owed her nothing, and he certainly didn’t deserve to get attacked over something that was Kakashi’s doing.

And yet, the entire time she’d been gone, he kept tabs on her whereabouts, just to make sure she was alright. He wanted her to be better, to see she could get better, because even though she trapped herself in a self-destructive spiral, he knew what she was capable of. There was a time when he thought the world of her, and even now, he knew there was still something good inside of her. There had to be.

Because he loved her, and he _hated_ it.

“Even if I wanted to do something about it,” she said. “How is this the answer? If the past three hours have taught us anything, it’s that Kakashi is just as big of a fuck-up as we are. Assembling some specialized team of the biggest fuck-ups on the planet isn’t going to do any good for anyone.”

“So you do believe him?” asked Jiraiya.

“I didn’t say that,” said Tsunade quickly.

“If you didn’t, you’d leave without a second thought,” said Jiraiya, smiling mercilessly. “But I think you do believe him. You’re defensive because you’re scared that part of you still gives a damn.”

“Unlike you, I’m not a fool.”

“No, you’ve never been a fool. Just a coward.” Before she could say anything else, he continued: “Go or don’t go, but your weird denial of the fact that you still have a conscience isn’t my problem.”

 _Walk away_ , he told himself, tearing himself away from the situation. He managed to get out of the room just in time to dodge a lamp she’d thrown at his head, and he could hear the glass shatter against the wall as he shut the door.

(Birds of a Feather)

Kakashi wasn’t sure how much time had passed by the time Tsunade came back to her hotel room. It might have been minutes, it might have been hours. Collapsed on one of the beds, he lost track of the outside world altogether, trapped in memories of the past. Bringing it all back like that tore open wounds that he thought he’d closed and made the realization of everything he left behind all too real.

 _Where are you guys?_ he thought about Team Seven, over and over again, and he couldn’t make it stop. _What have I done to you?_

“Where’s Shizune?” asked Tsunade. Kakashi could tell she had been drinking—not that he could blame her.

“I told her I’d watch him,” he said, sitting up and gesturing towards Tenzō. “She said something about getting dinner and looking around.”

Tsunade nodded distractedly and gave Tenzō another look over. “Look, I’ll stay long enough to fix the kid, and then I’m out. Forget about my debt and go back to Konoha or wherever it is you two are planning to go. You wasted your time.”

“A promise is a promise,” said Kakashi. “I’ll still pay.”

“I’m not worth wasting your life savings on.”

“Whether or not you believe it,” said Kakashi. “You _were_ a friend. Trust me, if you feel so inclined to pay off your own debt, you’ll have plenty more in the future.”

Carefully, she moved Tenzō over and sat next to him. “How are you so calm about this?” asked Tsunade.

“I’m not,” admitted Kakashi. _Where are you guys?_ “I lost the three people I care about most all in one go, I’m a grown man stuck in a teenager’s body, and I’m about to dedicate my entire life to fixing…everything.”

“But you’re going to do it anyway,” said Tsunade. “Don’t you think you’ve paid enough penance?”

“That’s the thing about penance,” said Kakashi quietly. “You can never really stop paying.”

She said nothing, but he knew what was running through her mind. They were alike in that way, and he went back and forth about whether or not he should say anything, his discomfort about opening up ever on his mind. However, she _was_ a friend, and the last time he ignored someone’s PTSD, Sakura became an addict, which was a guilt he would carry forever.

Guilt always seemed to win over him, one way or another.

“I know what it’s like,” he said. “For you to dream every night about them dying, to see them in everything you do. To blame yourself over and over again, because you can’t shake off the memories, and it takes control of your life, because it never goes away.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “But, it gets better, if you let it.”

Turning away from him, she brought her knees to her chest, and a few tears managed to escape from her eyes. She wiped them away with a quick “god damn it,” and he respectfully averted his gaze until she could compose herself.

“Is that why we were friends in your other life?” she asked. “Because we understood each other?”

“Probably,” he said. “That, and we cared about similar people. We used to joke that the words ‘it’s about Sakura’ could make either of us do just about anything.”

“She sounds like the perfect student for me,” she said. “I mean, she’s a little more boy-crazy than I’d like her to be, but everyone’s got their faults. I’m just glad there’s someone who can learn the—” She pointed at the seal on her forehead.

_Where are you guys? What have I done to you?_

“Here,” said Tsunade, taking off her necklace and handing it to him. “Take it.”

“What?” he asked, taken aback.

“If you’re lying, the curse will kill you, I’ll get the necklace back, and most importantly, I’ll be free of this shit,” said Tsunade. “If you’re telling the truth, then there’s no consequence.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Not nearly drunk enough,” said Tsunade. “You scared that it’s not in your destiny to become Hokage?”

“No,” said Kakashi, and he finally found it in himself to smile. “Scared that it is.”

“Take it,” she said again, waving it in front of his face.

There was admittedly some hesitation in him, neither sure that he wanted to take the risk of horrible and imminent death nor the confirmation that being Hokage was his destiny. However, it was important to her for reasons he didn’t understand, and if this was the key to getting her on his side, so be it. He took the necklace from her and fastened it around his neck.

“I’ve got the kid,” she said, looking back to Tenzō. “Go. Just...go away.”

“You know where to find me, if you change your mind,” he said, standing up.

“Wait, before you do go.” She didn’t look at him as she said this, as if she was almost too afraid to ask. “What is death like?”

He thought for a moment. “Peaceful.”

_Where are you guys? What have I done to you?_

* * *

 

Shizune came back to the hotel shortly after nine, and Tsunade was glad she decided against doing shots after Kakashi left, because she wanted to be sober for the conversation they were about to have. At least, mostly sober.

“How is he?” asked Shizune, immediately rushing towards Tenzō’s side.

“Drifting in and out of consciousness,” said Tsunade. “He’ll be fine.”

“Good,” she said, smiling, before she looked up at Tsunade and grew concerned. Even though she wasn’t drunk anymore, Tsunade wouldn’t be surprised if she still looked rough. “What’s wrong, Lady Tsunade?”

“Sit down,” said Tsunade. “I want to talk to you about something.”

_I think you do believe him. You’re defensive because you’re scared that part of you still gives a damn._

“What is it?” asked Shizune, sitting on the edge of her bed.

Memories of Nawaki’s mangled body and Dan bleeding out flashed in her mind, and they made her shutter and close her eyes. Fighting back nausea and the urge to flee, she thought, _I can’t do this_.

However, there were new images along with them, not memories, by true events all the same. She imagined Shizune buried under a pile of rubble, her body broken and lifeless; she imaged burying Jiraiya, even her bet on his life unable to save him; she imagined standing in front of thousands of dead bodies on a battlefield, the armies under her orders slaughtered.

_That’s the thing about penance. You can never really stop paying._

“How would you feel if we didn’t do—” Tsunade gestured aimlessly around her. “— _this_ anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“If we went back to the village?”

Shizune’s eyes lit up. “Are we going home?”

_I know what it’s like. But, it gets better, if you let it._

“Potentially,” said Tsunade. “I haven’t decided, yet.”

“I mean,” said Shizune, shrugging, reigning in her emotions and trying to play it cool. “It’s whatever you want to do.”

“Would it make you happy?”

“Would it make _you_ happy?” asked Shizune.

“I’m not asking about me.”

_You look depressed to me._

“It’s—” began Shizune, before looking down at the ground in embarrassment. “—I mean—”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know,” said Tsunade.

“Yes,” said Shizune sheepishly. “I’d like to go home.”

_I think you do believe him. You’re defensive because you’re scared that part of you still gives a damn._

_Fuck._

(No—Nothing Like Hell)

After processing Kakashi’s story, Jiraiya came to a few conclusions.

He was now certain, unless Kakashi was the greatest mastermind of all time, he was telling the truth about time traveling. He was slightly less certain, but still pretty confident, that Kakashi was telling the truth about what happened in the future.

If Kakashi’s chain of events was to be believed, they needed to act fast. Kakashi was right that the first year was going to be crucial, and he was glad he didn’t give the Third a timeframe on when they would be back, because they probably needed to do _something_ now while they had the time.

Also, he couldn’t believe that he’d never thought about writing romance novels before. It was such an obvious niche for him. His novels would be _famous_.

He was not ready to think about Orochimaru, yet, nor the absurdity of the Fourth Ninja World War. So, he didn’t, because they thankfully had bigger things to worry about for now.

He was not going to allow Minato and Kushina to die, but he was trying not to think about that either. It was over a year away and thinking about their dead bodies laying beside their son, bloody and torn apart by the Nine-Tailed Fox, was not doing him any good.

And their _son_. His godson. His Prophecy Child. A boy who started out much like him, orphaned and outcast by society, with too much energy and a knack for getting into trouble, but he was good, far too good for what people deserved, and he rose up and saved the world. The boy who would perfect Sage Mode into something more powerful than Jiraiya could ever dream, who would take on his summoning animal, who was named after a character in his book.

Minato and Kushina thought he was good enough to make him their son’s godfather.

They could fix everything.

“I’m in,” said Jiraiya, when Kakashi came back to the hotel room, far after the sun had set. “It’s crazy, but I’m in.”

Kakashi sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

Before he could say anything else, Jiraiya caught sight of Tsunade’s necklace. “What the hell did you say to her?” asked Jiraiya, pointing at it.

“Not much,” said Kakashi. “I think she’s hoping it will kill me.”

“Did she at least look less pissed?” Kakashi gave him a confused look. “We might have had a screaming match. She’s the one who broke our lamp, via attempting to throw it at my head.”

“Then, yes,” said Kakashi. “She looked much better than that. She was drunk, which probably helped.”

Jiraiya laughed, almost meaning it. “You think she’ll say yes?”

“I have no idea,” said Kakashi. “You know as well as I do that no one can make Tsunade do anything she doesn’t want to.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Part of Jiraiya didn’t want to be more invasive than he already had been, but there was a question burning in his mind, had been burning since Kakashi’s story, and curiosity had a tendency to win over him. “Hey, Kakashi. What’s death like?”

For some reason, he smiled. “Peaceful.”

* * *

 

Standing in front of Kakashi’s and Jiraiya’s hotel room, Tsunade fought the urge to flee. Or, maybe fleeing was the smart thing to do, and she was fighting the urge not to. Once she stepped through that door, she had to make a decision, and even though she’d had a night to think about it, the two sides of herself were still at war.

 _I can’t believe I’m doing this_ , she thought, but the memory of Jiraiya calling her a coward angered her enough to knock on the door.

“Hey,” said Kakashi, letting her inside.

“Hey,” said Tsunade, as he closed the door behind her. “Tenzō’s going to be fine. He’s sleeping, at the moment, but in a non-coma way. He’ll be weak for a while, but he shouldn’t have any lasting problems.”

“Thank you,” said Kakashi.

An awkward silence fell over the room, all of them, including Tsunade, waiting for her to say something.

 _Coward_.

“I’m not going to apologize to you,” said Tsunade, looking at Jiraiya.

“Nor will I,” he said.

“I still mean most of the things I said.”

“As do I.”

She paused, taking a leap of faith that Kakashi was right, and that life did get better if you let it. “But I am in.”

Both Kakashi and Jiraiya smiled. “Welcome to the specialized team of the biggest fuck-ups on the planet,” said Jiraiya.

“That’s a bit of a long name,” joked Kakashi.

“You’re right,” said Jiraiya, pretending to contemplate it. “It’s better as a tagline.”

Tsunade rolled her eyes at their ridiculousness. “So, what are we doing?”

“We haven’t decided, yet,” said Kakashi. “I put forward that we deal with Danzō as soon as possible.”

“We can’t expose him,” said Jiraiya. “If we reveal that Konoha’s most significant elder has been repeatedly committing acts of treason, the people are going to freak out and Konoha’s government is going to collapse, and we can’t do that right after a war. Someone will take advantage of that.”

“I agree,” said Kakashi. “Which is why we should kill him and blame it on someone else.”

“Who are you planning on framing?” asking Tsunade, raising an eyebrow.

“The easiest time to take out Danzō,” said Kakashi. “Is waiting until he goes to lure the Akatsuki into Hanzō’s trap. We trap him in his own trap and kill him. Danzō’s a good ninja, but between us and the Akatsuki, he doesn’t stand a chance. From there, we can blame Hanzō. The ‘Danzō’ problem is solved, and the Akatsuki never turn into what they were last time.”

“Hanzō’s going to do his best to object to that,” said Jiraiya. “But it would be our word against his, and Konoha isn’t exactly fond of Hanzō. When did the trap happen last time?”

“This January.”

“I see the need to not tell the Third about this,” said Jiraiya. “Considering that last time, he _knew_ about Danzō’s repeated acts of treason and didn’t feel the need to do anything about it. But, killing an elder is a significant crime, and if we go behind the Hokage’s back on it, it doesn’t make us legally any better than Danzō. We’re going to need to clue in Minato.”

“Is there a downside to having the ‘future’ conversation with Minato?” asked Tsunade. “I mean, he’s smart enough not to do something stupid with the information. As Jiraiya said, it would make everything we do legal.”

Kakashi frowned. “The only problem I have,” he said. “Is if that information prevents Minato and Kushina, for whatever reason, conceiving Naruto. No matter what happens, Naruto _has_ to be born.”

“Kushina’s theoretical date of conception is December 10th,” said Tsunade. “And Minato will, theoretically, become Hokage around then. So, if we spring it on them right after that…”

“It should be fine,” conceded Kakashi. “We’ll need to tell Kushina, too. That information is relevant to both of them, and if Naruto ever comes back—”

“That’ll be a fun conversation,” said Jiraiya. “‘Hey, guys, I know you’re probably overjoyed that you’re going to have a child, so let me just ruin your happiness by telling you about how that child will inevitably cause you both to die horribly, and then he’ll suffer relentlessly for the next seventeen years.’” Jiraiya looked at Kakashi. “We’re fixing that, by the way. Someone is going to have to kill me first before they take out Minato and Kushina.”

“I feel the same,” said Kakashi. “About both points. It’s going to be a rough conversation, but—”

“It’s better than Danzō running around,” agreed Jiraiya.

“About the Akatsuki,” said Tsunade. “Are we planning on just showing up in January and asking them to randomly help us take out the ninja who is supposedly offering them peace? Because, I can see that having downsides.”

“No, that’s a bad idea,” said Jiraiya. He thought for a moment. “If we’re _extremely_ careful, we could go to the Rain now, spend some time building a relationship with the Akatsuki, and warn them that Hanzō’s not planning on playing nice. They’re crazy, but it’s better if they’re our crazies than someone else’s.”

“Danzō _cannot_ ,” said Kakashi. “Under _any_ circumstance, know that we were there, or that something about them has changed.”

“Hey,” said Jiraiya. “If there’s nothing else that the three of us are good at, we’re good at being sneaky. I mean, we’ll having to reveal our actual identities to Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato, mostly because I’m going to be our way in, but if we ask them not to, there’s no reason they would tell anyone. We’ll just spend the rest of time in disguises.”

“We’ll also have to lay low when we come back to the village,” said Kakashi. “Pretend like we’ve not been up to anything unusual, up until Danzō makes his move with Hanzō. We can’t tip him off that we’re onto him, or…anyone else.”

The implication that the ‘anyone else’ referred to Orochimaru was not lost on Tsunade, who was honestly doing her best not to focus on the fact that her former best friend was committing crimes against humanity until it was absolute necessary. Judging from the look on Jiraiya’s face, he was doing the same.

“So,” said Tsunade awkwardly. “To the Rain, then?”

“To the Rain,” said Kakashi. “But, there’s something we have to do first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for sticking around! If you liked it, reviews are love. Reviews are life.
> 
>  **Fun Fact of the Chapter:** A lot of the elements of the story involving the Sannin came from a fanfiction Chicken Train planned to write about the life of Jiraiya. Chicken Train loves the Sannin more than just about any other set of fictional characters and they have a way bigger role in the story than initially anticipated because she begged for them to be there. On a similar note, this chapter is so unlike our original vision for chapter two that it’s hard to believe they are both sequels to the first chapter. 
> 
> _The first 87 drafts of the lab scene sucked_ -Chicken Train. 
> 
> _Thanks_ -Laser Beam, who wrote all 88 drafts of the lab scene.


	3. Blame it on War and Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, y'all! We know we said we were going to post these every month until it caught up with the FFN story, but we're actually managing to finish chapter five in a timely manner, which is wild. So, in order to do a simultaneous release between here and FFN, we're moving up the release times to two weeks.
> 
> Thank you so, so much to everyone who reviewed. We cherish them, just, so much.
> 
>  **Content warnings for this chapter, so prepare yourself accordingly:** Traumatized people actually having to deal with their trauma instead of being magically cured, which means mentions of PTSD, displaying of symptoms, and talk about recovery. Also, a Vine reference.
> 
>  **Previously, on Once More With Feeling:** After touching a mysterious crystal with the rest of Team Seven, Kakashi travels back in time into his thirteen-year-old body and saves Obito. He realizes that he can't save the world alone, so tells Jiraiya and Tsunade about the future and asks for their help. Jiraiya and Tsunade yell at one another in a hotel room, Tsunade gives Kakashi her necklace, and they both, eventually, agree to help. In a plot to kill Danzō, they decide to go to the Rain and befriend the Akatsuki. Now, without further ado...

  **Chapter 3:**

**Blame it on War and Peace**

**AKA**

" **Rasputin" by Boney M.**

(Kill Bill: Vol 1)

There was not a single Konoha ninja who would testify against the beauty of their city's gate.

There was nothing masterful or unique about its construction. Architecturally, it blended in with the other outer walls and small building within the city seamlessly, and its artistry paled in comparison to the magnificence of some of Konoha's main structures, like the Hokage Rock and the Academy. To a visitor, it would seem like nothing more than a simple door.

Yet, no Konoha ninja would testify against its beauty. Because, after coming back to the village from a long mission, armed only with the relief at one's survival and clinging desperately to the coattails of battle's adrenaline high to carry one home, there was nothing more exhilarating than seeing the sight of Konoha's gate peeking through the trees. The inner-city buildings were exquisite, sure, but none of them saw as many rapturous smiles as the gate which welcomed weary ninja home.

Minato was never an exception to the phenomenon, but after coming back from his latest mission, the wonder struck him even harder than usual. There was something more to it, more than the usual euphoria of coming home, that took his breath away.

_Kushina wanted a child._

_This is the gate that will welcome my child home._

Kushina wasn't even pregnant—their potential child nothing more than an idea—so it was stupid to daydream. Still, Minato couldn't help it. The world itself seemed more vibrant and alive at the very thought of having a son or daughter.

Nearly everything in Konoha was falling victim to his fancying, and he suddenly developed an intense fondness for all of it. Ramen Ichiraku was no longer just Kushina's favorite restaurant; it was the place Kushina would introduce their child to ramen. The Hokage Rock was where he would take their child to learn about their village's history. The Konoha Library was where he would take their child to introduce them to the world of literature (if they were a reader, which he hoped they would be). The Academy was where their child would learn how to be a ninja.

Maybe the Hokage Office was where their child would one day sit, chosen as the leader of Konoha.

Of course, he would love them all the same if their dreams were not near that grand. He would love them no less if they decided to never become a ninja at all.

"You asked to see me, Sandaime?" asked Minato, bowing his head respectfully in greeting.

"Yes," said the Third, smiling, though it was stiff and didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sit down, won't you?"

Minato grabbed one of the chairs on the side of the office, pulled it up to the opposite side of the desk from the Third, and sat down.

"Tea?" asked the Third, pouring a cup for himself and readying a second one.

Tea. Would their child like tea? "No, thank you, sir."

"Very well." The Third took his time fiddling with the tea—putting up the pot and shuffling around papers on his desk to make room for his cup—before giving Minato a curious look out of the corner of his eye. "Have you heard from Jiraiya lately?"

"No," said Minato, frowning. "Haven't for a few months. Is something wrong? Did something happen?"

"No," said the Third. "The opposite, actually. He looked…better than usual."

Nodding politely in attentiveness, Minato wondered where this conversation was going. Minato and the Third had a slightly more casual relationship than the average ninja had with their leader, due to what was referred to as "the sensei tree." Jōnin sensei often had an almost parental relationship to their charges, particularly due to the prevalence of orphans in ninja society, where sensei were the closest thing to an authority figure many genin had. So, the relationship to one's sensei's sensei could range anywhere from feeling mildly related to grandchild/grandfather.

Minato and the Third ran somewhere in the upper-middle. Even when he was younger, Minato saw a lot of the Third, and the Third had always been quick to trust him over his peers, but they had never talked about Jiraiya's well-being in-depth.

"Jiraiya told me he's been looking for an information gathering-successor," said the Third. "And, somehow, he landed on Kakashi. They left on a mission two Wednesdays ago, to test the waters."

That caught Minato off guard. To the best of his knowledge, Jiraiya and Kakashi had only seen each other a handful of times and Minato had been there for all of them, their crossing only because of him in the first place. And, while Minato certainly spoke highly of Kakashi in the presence of Jiraiya, when prompted for how his genin team was doing, Kakashi had just met the qualifications for jōnin a few weeks ago.

Had this been the cause of Kakashi's personality change? Was his transformation merely a product of his old sensei getting ahold of him, Jiraiya's charisma and altruism winning over Kakashi's compulsive lawfulness?

No, that didn't make any sense. The change in Kakashi was immediate, and people seldom changed their entire outlook on life at the drop of a hat, particularly people as strong-willed as Kakashi, no matter how convincing their persuader. Even if it hadn't been instantaneous, Jiraiya and Kakashi would have had to be in contact for months leading up to that, and Jiraiya had been gone for the last five. What have they been doing—exchanging letters?

In fact, Jiraiya had only come back from his mission two Tuesdays ago, as had Kakashi, which meant they both left the morning after coming back from significant missions. Given the short turnaround time, Kakashi was still moderately injured when they left. Whatever the mission was, it was important enough to breed a spontaneous partnership in two completely opposite people.

Minato didn't like to pry into other people's business—particularly professional business, where there were strict legal limitations anyway. Still, there was something wrong with that picture.

Even stranger, whatever this critical reason for their mission was, it had instilled a new wave of life into both of them. Kakashi was, out of nowhere, compassionate, hopeful, and charming. Jiraiya, apparently, looked better than he had in a year.

If Minato had to guess, they found something. Specifically, Kakashi found something, causing his abrupt change in personality during the Kannabi Bridge mission. Then, he showed it to Jiraiya two Wednesdays ago, causing a rejuvenation in Jiraiya and their sudden decision to go on a mission together.

As Minato had been with Kakashi the night before the Kannabi Bridge mission and _that_ Kakashi was the same as ever, he must have found whatever it was the morning of. He had been late, curiously, and had dodged giving a reason, brushing it off as a newfound deviation from predictability. But, Kakashi was smart—new Kakashi even more so, with his newfound wisdom and maturity—and he would have never risked the success of the mission on something like that. The dodge was intentional, most likely, and Kakashi said the one thing that would stun Minato to the point of not asking questions.

What could Kakashi have found that caused him to randomly develop compassion, wisdom, and maturity? Why did he hide it from Minato but show it to, of all people, Jiraiya, with whom he'd had no real contact with before?

Judging by the Third's description of their mission, which Minato now suspected was not a simple testing of the waters, Jiraiya and Kakashi had either lied to the Third or the Third was lying to him. If he had to guess, Jiraiya and Kakashi had lied to the Third; the Third was fishing when he told Minato that Jiraiya looked better than usual, to see if Minato knew anything about his sudden change in demeanor. If the Third was trying to hide the details of the mission from Minato, he wouldn't have needed information from him, nor would he have piqued his curiosity.

What had Kakashi and Jiraiya gotten into?

He had no desire to communicate these thoughts to the Third, particularly since it wasn't his place to pry in the first place, so he moved past them quickly. "I see," said Minato, keeping his face neutral. "Do you know when they'll be back?"

"I have no idea," said the Third. "I never do with Jiraiya. It could be weeks; it could be months."

"Will I have another jōnin on my squad, then?"

"About that," said the Third, and the stiffness returned. "I've decided to station Rin at the hospital and Obito at the academy. They're both being trained to, at this time, work at their respective locations long term."

It was less surprising than the news about Jiraiya and Kakashi, but it was far less welcome.

"I suppose I'm being fired, then?" asked Minato, barely keeping a mirthless half-smile off his face.

"You must understand, Minato, whether you meant to or not, you're holding the war in your hands. I have to make sure your arms are empty enough to take it. The lives of our people depend on it, and I trust you more than anyone to keep them safe."

The compliment did not ease the sting. "So, I'm being fired."

The Third's gaze was firm, but Minato swore there was an undercurrent of pity in his eyes.

"Yes."

(Two Bros, Chillin' in a Treehouse, Five Feet Apart 'Cause They're Not Gay)

Camped out only a few miles south of Konoha, both Kakashi and Jiraiya thought they had lived long enough to know that life would always find ways to take things from them. But, losing the feeling of relief from being close to home gutted them in ways they weren't prepared for. Though war was ravaging the continent and political unrest extended even further, home had become their primary battlefield. Kakashi's peaceful Konoha was gone, Jiraiya's illusion of adequate village stability was gone, and though they both had different reasons, their lifetimes of loyalty and servitude suddenly felt hollow.

They really ought to have known better.

Also unbeknownst to one another, though it was a thought for a later time, they wondered if Tsunade would feel the same restlessness upon coming back and would be dissuaded from staying. Having unfinished business in the town she was lodging in, Tsunade decided to stay behind with Shizune and Tenzō, while Kakashi and Jiraiya ran one last errand before they all went to the Rain.

(" _Besides_ ," she'd said. " _The second-hand embarrassment might actually kill me_.")

It was a thought for a later time, but despite having much more pressing issues to deal with, they both thought it all the same.

"Are your hideouts usually in treehouses?" asked Kakashi, trying to push everything from his mind as he kept watch though a cut-out knot in one of the wood panels, because he really ought to have known better.

"You got something against two grown men sitting in a treehouse together?" asked Jiraiya, doing the same on both accounts.

"Only if that other man is you."

"They're good hiding places," said Jiraiya, ignoring him. "You can get a decent vantage point on all sides through strategic holes in the wood, and it provides good concealment and cover. Not so great to do combat in, but that's what the exits are for."

"Not so great if your enemy likes long-range fire jutsu, either."

"Yeah, well, your plans are always fucked if an Uchiha gets involved." Looking away from his surveillance of the moonlit forest for just a moment, Jiraiya gave Kakashi a hard look. "How certain are you that this is going to work?"

"Fifty percent," said Kakashi. "With a fifty percent chance it's going to blow up in our faces."

Though Kakashi didn't have a concrete outline of Kabuto's past, he'd heard enough to know that Kabuto, as a young child, was taken into the Konoha Orphanage by Nono, one of the wardens and an ex-ROOT member who was not particularly fond of the organization or Danzō. At some point later, Danzō recruited Kabuto into ROOT, much to Nono's displeasure, and she spent the rest of her life trying to bargain him out. Kakashi wasn't sure at what age Kabuto was taken, but if there was any chance he was still at the orphanage, he needed to be dealt with. Kabuto had taken thousands of lives during the Fourth Ninja World War alone.

The smartest option was to just kill him and be done with it, but Jiraiya and Kakashi decided that they weren't in the business of killing innocent people for their future actions—particularly innocent children, who could easily be saved from their circumstances. Otherwise, Obito would have to be the first to go.

So, Kakashi was left with only one option.

Kakashi knew that fixing this timeline would involve personal sacrifices, and he thought he was committed to doing whatever. However, this went beyond his initial expectations, because there were some things in life that being a ninja didn't prepare you for, even a ninja career with as many weird experiences as his, and he was regretting it more with every hour that passed.

Even though the stakes were high, Jiraiya thought it was hilarious.

"You sure you want to go through with this?" asked Jiraiya.

"Why, would you like to do it instead?" asked Kakashi, irritated at the amused look on Jiraiya's face. "Or, better yet, be useful and think of a better plan?

"You're awfully bitchy about something you volunteered for." Jiraiya turned back towards his watch. "But, this _is_ the stupidest plan I've ever been apart of."

The fact that neither of them could think of a descent plan was weighing on both of them, because no matter how self-depreciative they were, they were still master tacticians. If they'd had more time, they probably could have set up something better. However, they'd only had thirty-six hours to plan, all of which were spent traveling, and twelve to enact it, so desperate times called for desperate measures.

Thankfully, Jiraiya had worked with Nono before, back when she was still apart of ROOT, so they weren't going in totally blind. He sent a letter to the orphanage, tied to the back of one of his frogs for identity verification, mentioning Kabuto and asking her to meet them sometime after midnight. If she loved Kabuto as much as the stories claimed and hadn't yet been sent on a mission by Danzō, they felt confident she would show.

Kakashi dreaded it with every fiber of his being. Jiraiya thought it was hilarious.

Neither of these things erased the sinister disquietness that came from proximity to the village.

They wondered if Tsunade would stay.

* * *

 

Nono finally showed around two-thirty, with exhausted eyes and a wary smile.

"Jiraiya," she greeted, as he took her hand and helped her into the treehouse. "This is…unexpected."

"I rarely do as expected." Jiraiya gestured over to Kakashi. "This is Kakashi Hatake. He used to be Minato Namikaze's student."

"It's nice to meet you," she said, once again giving an empty smile as she sat down and rested her back against the decaying wood of the treehouse wall. She gave both of them a calculating look, using her background in information gathering to try and get a read on the situation. But, they were as good at concealing things as she was at ascertaining them, and they all found themselves in a standstill. "So, you said this has something to do with Kabuto?"

"I've been digging into some things," said Jiraiya. "Word on the street is Danzō's going to come to the orphanage soon and force you to go on an intel gathering mission. Then, he's going to take a couple of the most skilled ninja in the orphanage and recruit them into ROOT." Jiraiya gave her a significant look. "Word on the street is Kabuto's at the top of that list."

" _No_ ," she said, almost standing in shock before realizing how low the ceiling was. Her face was caught somewhere between fear and anger, and Kakashi could tell why didn't make a good ROOT member; like all the members of _his_ Team Seven, she was one of the unlucky few excellent ninja who couldn't conceal their emotions worth a damn. "He can't take him. He can take me, but he can't take him. Kabuto is sweet, and kind, and good, and ROOT would just destroy him."

"I know he's like a son to you," said Jiraiya. "Word on the street and all, which is why we're trying to help you."

"He _is_ my son," she said fiercely, before relaxing back against the wall. "Help me how?"

Jiraiya fought the urge to admit that Tsunade was right about second-hand embarrassment. Kakashi fought the urge to run away.

"This is going to sound crazy," said Kakashi, growing quickly tired of having to say that phrase and all its variations.

"I would do anything to protect Kabuto," said Nono.

"Kakashi, though a teenager," said Jiraiya. "Is…beyond his years, in most ways. Dealing with Kakashi is no different, in any regard, than dealing with someone, say, my age. In fact, I suggest you look at him as if he's a thirty-seven-year-old stuck in a teenager's body."

"Okay," said Nono slowly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

There were some things in life that being a ninja did not prepare you for. But, in the future, when the world went to war and Kabuto summoned death, death would not care about the reason.

_The war was your fault, too._

_It's nothing Naruto wouldn't do._

"Let me adopt Kabuto," said Kakashi, almost wincing. _There were some things in life…_ "There's another boy I have to take in. I can pass both off as long-lost relatives who've recently lost their parents and need someone in Konoha to look after them, so they can go to the Academy. The disguise will keep them safe and let them live normal lives."

Nono took several deep breaths as she looked back and forth between him and Jiraiya incredulously. "You're not serious."

"Trust me," said Jiraiya. "I know it's weird, and I know he's weird, but he's far more capable than he looks."

"And you honestly think he could responsibly raise two children?"

"As well as any thirty-seven-year-old, because that is the age we're pretending he is?" asked Jiraiya. Kakashi shot him an exasperated look. "Without a doubt in my mind. Trust me, I've taken in kids before, so I know what it's like, and I wouldn't vouch for him if I didn't mean it. Besides, he's going to look after one kid no matter what, so it's nothing he wouldn't be doing already."

Looking far more exhausted than when she climbed into the treehouse, Nono curled her knees to her chest and barely seemed to breathe as she look back and forth between Kakashi and Jiraiya. Neither disturbed her, even as the moments passed on, because they knew giving up Kabuto wouldn't be easy for her and that giving him up to someone she thought was thirteen was even worse.

"I know this is difficult," said Kakashi eventually. "And know that we wouldn't ask this of you if we didn't think it was necessary. You know that you didn't want to lose your son to someone like that." After all, Sasuke and Kabuto had fallen prey to the same enemy. Difference circumstances, but it was the same story. "It will stay with you for the rest of your life."

"I know." Resting her elbows on her knees and taking a deep breath, she smiled sadly. "He'll be a great ninja one day. He's only five, but he's already so talented at medical jutsu. Every day, he makes me prouder than the last."

"Then give him a chance," said Jiraiya. "To become a normal ninja and learn to use it for the good of the village."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"What would we have to gain?" asked Kakashi. "We're meeting you in the middle of the night in a treehouse. We clearly don't hold the upper hand in anything."

Once again giving him a ascertaining look, she took a deep breath. "I can't believe I'm considering this. But, you're right. Danzō can't have that power, and he certainly can't have my son. It's probably time to put him in the Academy, anyways."

"I'm sorry," said Kakashi, meaning it.

She nodded, dazed. "If you're right about Danzō, I don't even have a choice. If Jiraiya trusts you, then I trust you." Taking another deep breath, she regained her composure. "I'll destroy Kabuto's records and create immigrant papers under the name 'Kabuto Hatake,' so it will look like he came from outside of Konoha. Do you need papers for the other child?"

"Please," said Kakashi, almost dumbstruck, not fully believing their luck. "His name is Tenzō."

"Wait here," she said. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

With that, she jumped down from the entrance of the treehouse and ran back off into the night, leaving a stunned silence from the two men in her wake.

"Did that just work?" asked Jiraiya, still looking at the spot she had been sitting in disbelief. "I have created near-perfect plans with weeks of preparation that have failed miserably, but our fucking, last-minute 'hey, let's lure a woman into a treehouse at two in the morning and convince her to let a thirteen-year-old adopt her child' actually worked."

"A mutual hated of Danzō is a powerful thing." Kakashi was not sure how he felt about the success of their plan. Though they probably hadn't screwed up their chances of fixing the timeline forever, he was adopting Kabuto. _Kabuto_ , the second Orochimaru, the one who had tried to kill him on multiple occasions. Sure, Obito had tried to kill him, but at least that was mostly contained within a three-day period, and he was his best friend first. "What the hell have I done?"

Kakashi felt like he was throwing fuel on the fire of the weird dynamics in their haphazard, world-saving group. Jiraiya was losing the will to find humor in their situation.

The sinister disquietness raged on.

They wondered if Tsunade would stay.

* * *

 

Kabuto was smaller than Kakashi thought he would be. He was scrawny for a five-year-old, and the too-large glasses he was wearing didn't help. If Kakashi squinted his eyes, the innocent-looking child Kabuto almost looked like a different person than the one he knew.

Truthfully, it was like looking at Sasuke when he was first put on Team Seven, the shadow of Itachi, of the death of the entire Uchiha clan, hanging over him. Despite that shadow, he wanted, then, to believe that the innocent, childlike face would last forever.

He'd lived long enough, now, to know that was stupid, but he liked to think that was behind them.

"Kabuto," said Nono. "This is Jiraiya and Kakashi Hatake."

"Hello," said Kabuto, in the middle of a yawn, smiling brightly. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too," said Jiraiya, while Kakashi could only find it in himself to awkwardly wave.

"Kabuto, something's happened," she said, cupping Kabuto's cheek and kneeling so that they were face-to-face. "It's not—it's not safe for you to be here anymore. They're going to take you to live in Konoha so you can go to the ninja school there."

"But I don't want to leave you," said Kabuto, growing panicked. "I want to stay here."

"I know." She smiled sadly and ruffled his hair. "But I need you to be strong for me, okay? You'll love it at the Academy. They'll teach you even more than I have."

"Will I ever get to see you again?"

"Of course. I'll come visit your when I can." She pulled him into a tight hug and looked at Kakashi over his shoulder. "Swear to me you'll take care of him."

"I will."

" _Swear it._ "

"I swear," said Kakashi, owing it to the world to do so.

As Kabuto and Nono exchanged tearful goodbyes, Kakashi felt like his grasp on reality was breaking. Jiraiya wondered how long the group could snowball like this before everything started crashing down around them.

The sinister disquietness raged on.

They hoped Tsunade would stay.

(Kill Bill: Vol 2)

Every jōnin sensei entered the job knowing that it would one day come to an end. Students never stayed students forever, and it was considered a great honor to have your trainees move beyond the need for you.

" _You won't be ready,"_ Jiraiya told him once, early on in his sensei career. _"No matter when it happens, you won't be ready. You care about those brats too much."_

At nineteen-years-old, Minato didn't quite believe him, not understanding how the fulfillment of his purpose could bring him melancholy. At twenty-three-years-old, Minato realized that, as usual, his old sensei was right, and he wasn't ready to lose them.

Minato was proud, of course. He was prouder than he ever thought he was capable of being. No matter how much he didn't understand it, Kakashi was off doing something important with Jiraiya, and Minato almost unconditionally trusted anything Jiraiya decided to involve himself with. And though Rin and Obito never made it to jōnin (and if he was being honest with himself, probably never would), the Third Hokage found a place for them in the village where they could use their talents for good.

Still, no matter how proud he was, he wasn't ready. The past four years had gone by so fast—far too fast—and Minato wanted to desperately cling onto time and extend it with them.

Was this what being a parent was like? Was this just a taste of what it would be like to watch a child grow up beyond the need for him?

_Kushina wanted a child._

Every jōnin sensei entered the job knowing that it would one day come to an end, including Minato, and he was lucky, luckier than many, that all his students had lived to see it. So, he accepted the discharge with grace, pushed the bittersweet thoughts from his mind, and invited Obito and Rin to lunch to congratulate them on their new positions.

"It's so strange," said Rin, as they sat down, less willing to hide her mournfulness than Minato. "That we won't be… _us_ anymore."

"I will always be here if you two need anything," said Minato. "This doesn't change that. Whether or not I'm teaching you, Kushina and I will always be—" He thought of Jiraiya, ever watching over him and Kushina, the best stand-in for something neither of them ever got to have that they could have asked for. "—family, if you want it."

There was still sorrow in her eyes, but Rin gave a slight smile. "I'd like family."

"Me, too," said Obito, looking off to the side, deliberately not making eye contact with either of them, embarrassed by the admission.

"I wish Kakashi was here," said Rin, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. "Do you know where he is or how long he'll be gone?"

"No," said Minato. "What Kakashi does is his business. Remember, now that we're no longer on a team, a lot of our mission work is going to be classified. So, if you aren't told, it's best not to ask." Rin nodded distractedly and some of the light left her eyes, causing a pang of guilt to shoot through Minato, and he softened his voice. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

Obito looked less pleased at that piece of news than Rin, so Minato moved on quickly. "How are you liking the hospital, Rin?"

"I really like it," she said, but quickly added: "I mean, don't get me wrong, you were the absolute best sensei I could have ever asked for, and I would never—"

"Rin, I want you to enjoy working at the hospital," interrupted Minato, before her rambling spiraled out of control. "It was my job to train you enough that you could go get a job that you're happy doing."

"Then, yeah," said Rin, relaxing back into her chair. "I really, really like it. I'm still in trial right now, but they're teaching me so much about medicine. My supervisor let me observe a surgery yesterday, and they're all so skilled. I hope I'm half as good as them one day."

"I'm sure you will be," said Minato, smiling. "What about you, Obito? How's the Academy?"

"It's okay." Obito crossed his arms and frowned. "I'd like it a lot better if I didn't know they just put me there because they don't think I'm good enough for field work."

"It's not like that," said Minato. "Building up the next generation of ninja is a huge service to the village—it's why I took the three of you on—and the Third Hokage put you there because he thought you'd be good at it. You're optimistic and kind, and that's what a lot of those kids are going to need. Remember, there's a lot of orphans that are going to come out of this war. You know how hard that is."

Obito nodded and some of the sullenness left him, but Minato had to admit, it _was_ odd that both Rin and Obito were yanked out of mission work without even attempting to replace Kakashi. There were several jōnin who had dramatically more experience than Kakashi, who could easily take his place. When they reported the Kannabi Bridge mission to the Third, he gave no indication that he was anything but pleased with Kakashi's team or thought that they were distracting Minato in the slightest, given that both Minato and Team Kakashi had accomplished extraordinary wins for Konoha with little trouble. Logically, Minato thought that the Third would have kept the man power and put Obito and Rin on _some_ squad, instead of pulling them from combat and taking up someone's time to train them to do different jobs than they were used to.

Unless, of course, the Third wasn't the one to make the decision at all.

Minato felt foolish for not realizing it before.

 _Jiraiya_ took away his team.

Logically, the Third _shouldn't_ have had a change of heart. With whatever Jiraiya and Kakashi were up to, Jiraiya could have. After all, hadn't Jiraiya been the one to snatch up Kakashi out of nowhere? The Third, like Minato, trusted Jiraiya unquestionably, so Jiraiya could have easily convinced him to retire Obito and Rin to the village on the grounds of potentially distracted Minato, particularly since Jiraiya knew Minato better than anyone who wasn't Kushina.

Minato knew that doubting Jiraiya's rational was wrong, because Jiraiya usually had good reasons for the things he did, but that didn't stop the sting of betrayal that painfully zapped his chest.

 _No matter when it happens, you won't be ready_.

Why did Jiraiya make that moment come prematurely?

What the hell did Kakashi and Jiraiya find?

(Outrunning Reality)

The twins, Yoshiki and Yoshiko, were born on the day the First Ninja World War ended, a cruel reminder to their mother that their father, who had died only weeks before, was so close to making it.

" _How unlucky,"_ people said. _"Left to raise two children on her own."_

It turned out she was lucky after all, because she was saved from the burden of single-parenthood when she was killed in a skirmish between her squad and a group of extremists still bitter about the war's conclusion. The twins, only one-years-old when it happened, were passed around from family to family over the years, never wanted for long.

" _How unlucky,"_ people said. _"Orphaned so young and never finding a proper home."_

Not that any of them ever did anything about it. That sort of unlove was unbearable to the twins, so they ran off in their early teens and watched out for one another, just them against the world.

Of course, until Yoshiko fell in love with a man seven years her senior. _Raiden_ , a self-proclaimed poet and scholar, who traveled around with an ex-ninja, anti-war group. He spoke platitudes of peace, art, and love that fascinated the easily-impressed, sixteen-year-old, war-hurt Yoshiko, and he wrote ballads about her beauty that mesmerized her into traveling with his group full time.

Yoshiki thought Raiden was full of shit, but he would have never considered leaving his twin's side, so he let Yoshiko drag him along. However, he was jealous that he was no longer in his twin's number one spot, and it was made worse when Yoshiko unexpectedly got pregnant at seventeen.

Of course, until he saw niece Kaiya for the first time. He was instantly charmed by her, and he realized that his family was not being taken away from him due to Yoshiko's split attention; it was expanding. And, when Raiden really stepped up and became a better father than he was a poet, Yoshiki begrudgingly accepted him as part of their makeshift family, too.

For the first time in the twins' life, things started to look up.

Then, the Second Ninja World War began.

Their group did everything they could, but as outcasts, they didn't have the benefit of protection from a village. Rapidly, their companions—their friends—were killed off when they got caught in raids and skirmishes. Though it meant abandoning their cause, Raiden, Yoshiko, and Yoshiki knew it wasn't worth risking Kaiya's safety over, and they found an out-of-the-way village to take refuge in.

" _How unlucky,"_ people said. _"Nowhere else to turn."_

Raiden and Yoshiko, having never stayed in one place for more than a month since their youths, grew restless in the melancholy town they were trapped in. Yoshiki, who fell in love with the grocer's daughter, Jin, faired a bit better. By the time the war ended, Kaiya had been in the town long enough to grow up beside friends, and Yoshiki married Jin. So, the three ex-ninja decided they would stay in the town, to give both Kaiya and Jin a better life than they would have on the road.

The restlessness never went away, but they eventually found their footing. Yoshiki and Jin had two sons, Dai and Jun, named after both of Jin's grandfathers, and they took over the grocery when Jin's father passed. Raiden, stronger than anyone else in the village, took a job at the lumber mill and read poetry at the local bar three nights a week, and Yoshiko was taken under the wing of the town seamstress.

They never forgave the war for taking the traveling life away from them, but for the first time in the twins' life, things were steady.

Then, the Third Ninja World War began, and their town was no longer out of the way.

Raiden, Yoshiko, and Yoshiki could all protect themselves, so when their town was caught in the crossfire of a battle, they managed to get both themselves and one kid each to safety. Jin, on the other hand, could not, and when it came down to Yoshiki saving Jun or saving her, both knew what choice had to be made.

" _How unlucky,"_ people would've said, if only there had been someone left.

And just like that, they were thrown back into old habits, wandering aimlessly across the continent and beyond. Their hatred of war burning harder than it ever had, they were desperate to do something about it this time, to not be helpless in their efforts to stop it.

When they found the Akatsuki, it was a match made in heaven.

* * *

 

"I don't understand," said Jiraiya, as their newly formed team of six sat in a cramped shack in the Rain. "Why my hobby had to be shitty poetry, of all things. I _hate_ poetry."

"Because, the only thing you're good at is being shitty at poetry," said Tsunade, brushing her newly mousey-brown hair out of her eyes. "Look, if I have to be common-law married to you for the next month or so, I want this one thing."

"You would take pleasure in my pain."

"You're certainly bickering like an old married couple," said Kakashi, leaning against the wall.

As Kakashi, Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Shizune could all change their appearance via jutsu, it was easy to pull off their disguises. Kakashi and Tsunade settled on mousey-brown hair and plain appearances, taking care to match their facial features enough to look like twins but not enough where it looked unnatural. Jiraiya insisted that he at least be a little better looking than they were, making his hair a nice shade of dark down, though he was nowhere above average. Shizune, through a little coaching from the three jōnin, looked like a descent combination of the two of them.

Tenzō and Kabuto were much harder to disguise, so they had to keep things simple. They left Tenzō's appearance alone, as his hair was similar to Kakashi's disguise, knowing they would have to bleach his hair and dye it gray before they went back to Konoha anyway. To match, they stuck a brown wig on Kabuto. Even if there was a ROOT spy, there was no way they would recognize Kabuto or Tenzō, and the likelihood of a ROOT member coming out of deep cover in the Akatsuki, traveling back to Konoha, and paying close attention to academy students was slim, so they decided that changing the boys' hair would be good enough. They just had to make it until January.

"Remember," said Kakashi to Kabuto and Tenzō. "Your names are Dai and Jun, Tsunade is Aunt Yoshiko, Jiraiya is Uncle Raiden, and Shizune is your cousin, Kaiya. We all have to act like family."

"And we're doing this so the bad guy can't get to us?" asked Kabuto, still confused as to why pretending to be a traveling family unit in the Land of Rain was going to stop someone in Konoha from getting to them if they were going back to Konoha anyway.

Kakashi, Jiraiya, and Tsunade felt bad about dragging two kids, neither of which were even genin, into an undercover operation in a country they'd never been to. Luckily, there were so many weird facets of the group they'd formed that no one could really focus on one thing for too long, which oddly helped give them a clear head after suffering through the whirlwind that was the previous two weeks. They could almost pretend that this was just another undercover mission—something they had all done a thousand times.

Almost.

"Yes," said Kakashi. "So, it's very important that you remember your story and not tell anyone about who you really are."

"Think of this as your first ninja mission," said Jiraiya. "Not many people get to go on a top-secret mission before they become genin. For the most part, just let us do all the talking."

"I won't let you down," said Tenzō, nodding intently, though it didn't hide the nervousness in his eyes, and he gently elbowed Kabuto. "We can do it, right Jun?"

Tenzō had accepted everything Kakashi, Jiraiya, and Tsunade told him without question. They were pretty certain he was just so grateful that someone rescued him that he would have taken on an army by himself if they asked him to, which didn't help their guilt.

"Right," said Kabuto, too young to really think of an argument against what they were doing. "…Dai."

"I'd ask if you were ready," said Jiraiya to Kakashi. "But your response to trauma is just to jump right into crazy shit, so you should be right at home."

It was disguised with a joke and an insult, but Jiraiya followed it with a humorless look, indicating that he really was asking. Kakashi gave him a slight bow of his head and an almost imperceptible eyebrow raise, asking the same. After a moment, Jiraiya shrugged and Kakashi returned it, both communicating something to the effect of "we're ninja; we can handle it." Shizune looked curiously between the pair, knowing that someone had obviously happened between the two of them and Tsunade, but Tsunade hadn't given her any specifics beyond that they needed her and she was taking Shizune undercover in the Rain with them.

Kakashi rolled his eyes, as if their interim moment hadn't happened. "Language, Raiden. We have kids."

"I swore around Kaiya, and she turned out just fine," said Tsunade, and Kakashi knew that wasn't just Yoshiko talking.

"Can I ask you a question before we turn into the other people for good?" whispered Kabuto, leaning in close to Kakashi. Kakashi nodded. "Was the guy who's my new uncle disguised when my mom gave me to you, too?"

"What do you mean?" asked Kakashi.

"You were in a disguise," he said, pointing at his face in a circular gesture around his mouth and nose. "Was he in a disguise, too?"

All of the adults now realizing what he was referring to, Jiraiya and Tsunade both grinned, though the later at least had the decency to hide it.

"I wasn't wearing a disguise," said Kakashi, having a feeling he wouldn't hear the end of his choice in accessory from Jiraiya for a while. "I always wear a mask."

"Oh," said Kabuto, before looking inquisitively at his now-maskless face. "Do you miss it?"

Jiraiya looked at Kabuto like he was his new favorite person, glad that there was someone else who could drag Kakashi as much as he did, even if it was unintentional.

* * *

 

The Ame Orphans had distinctive hair, Kakashi noticed. For as obsessed with the cloaks as Nagato was, wanting to be seen and feared from far away, Nagato, Konan, and Yahiko were victims of the "Sakura Problem." Sure, the pink-haired ninja obliterating trees with her bare hands in the distance _could_ be anyone, but it wasn't difficult to make a good guess at them being Konoha's own medical darling.

Sure, the red-haired, the really-red-haired, and the blue-haired ninja walking towards them in the distance _could_ be anyone, but it wasn't difficult to make a good guess at them being the three rampant murder machines.

Konoha had a rough history, full of atrocities of nearly every kind: hopeless wars, massacres, demon attacks, illegal human experiments, constant acts of treason by someone who was supposed to be leading the village, double invasions while people were just trying to watch the final round of the chūnin exams, and the list continued. There were a lot of different things that haunted a lot of different citizens of Konoha, ninja and civilian alike.

In all that, there was one moment, above everything else, that everyone agreed caused the world to stand still. One pivotal moment that still haunted people's dreams en masse—that made even the most hardened people in Konoha know the meaning of fear. One moment that Sakura could still see when she closed her eyes, she'd told him, and could make even Naruto pause when it was mentioned. One moment and two horrifying words that were etched into every crevice in Konoha.

 _Shinra Tensei_.

Despite all the evils that were committed on Konoha's soil, Nagato and Konan were the only two people to ever bring it to the ground.

Yahiko was innocent in that, of course, but his murderous eyes were the last sight Kakashi saw before his death, so he wasn't exactly a welcome sight either.

Jiraiya noticed none of this, unblinkingly watching the orphans as they approached. But, Tsunade—because of course she would notice—gently nudged his shoulder with hers, and he looked down to meet her gaze. There was concern in her eyes, seeing in him what she must knew other people saw in her, but there was also fear. The ramifications of dealing with the Akatsuki must have hit her, what they were capable of and what Kakashi, Jiraiya, and her could be implicated in if things with south, and she was giving him every opportunity to call it quits.

Looking at the Akatsuki leaders growing ever-closer to the shack they were hiding in, he wished he could consider it.

"It's nothing Naruto wouldn't do," he mouthed to her.

"We're not Naruto," she mouthed back. "Not even close."

"No," he agreed. "But Naruto deserved to do a lot less than he had to."

That seemed to take the argument out of her, but she still looked uneasy.

"All we have to do is convince them to help us kill Danzō," he said. "Which is easy, because the whole world wants to kill Danzō."

"I think half the world's desire to murder Danzō comes from you."

"Would you rather not kill him?"

"Of course, I want to," she admitted. "I'd sure as hell sleep a lot better if he was dead."

"So," he said, nodding his head towards the orphans. "Let's kill Danzō."

"Let's kill Danzō," she agreed, and it gave both the resolve to push forward.

* * *

 

Jiraiya couldn't see what Tsunade and Kakashi were mouthing to one another, as Kakashi's back was turned towards him, blocking Tsunade's shorter frame, but he could tell they were having a moment of silent conversation. At first, he thought nothing of it, as there were a lot of things to say that needed to be kept silent in current company. But, when Kakashi turned away from her and back towards the oncoming orphans, Tsunade smiled at him when he wasn't looking in a way that gave Jiraiya pause.

A few things jumped into his mind, namely Kakashi's avoidance of the answer to what he said to Tsunade that convinced her to give him the necklace. Before he could really consider anything, though, there was a knock on the door of the shack. Two shorts, two longs, and then three rapid shorts—the old code they used to use when Jiraiya trained the orphans originally. After knocking back four times, the confirmation of the code, Jiraiya opened the door to let them in.

"Hey," said Yahiko, grinning as he clapped Jiraiya on the shoulder, and joking: "You've certainly changed since we last saw you."

"Turns out, when you're born with white hair, age turns it brown," joked Jiraiya, before catching sight of Konan. "Speaking of changes, you eighteen, yet?"

"You came just a few months too early," said Konan good-naturedly.

"It's why I had to snag her up," said Yahiko, in kind. "I figured you'd be back."

"I taught you guys well," said Jiraiya, grinning.

Then, there was Nagato, following closely behind the other two and shutting the door as he came in. Sensitive, pacifist Nagato, who would later try and burn the world in order to save it. Of the three orphans Jiraiya thought was capable of leading a group dedicated to large-scale destruction, Nagato was not the one he would have picked.

Of course, little, squishy-faced Kabuto would apparently go on to kill even more people than Nagato, so there really was no telling. As far as Jiraiya was concerned, Nagato fell under the same clause; he was just a kid who needed saving.

Judging by the looks on Kakashi's and Tsunade's faces, eerily similar due to their newfound features, they were feeling less confident.

"It's good to see you again, Jiraiya," said Nagato.

"I'm really glad to see you guys again," said Jiraiya, meaning it even with what he knew, before gesturing towards the woman who no longer looked anything like his old teammate. "You remember Tsunade, don't you?"

A slew of introductions went around, some more awkward than others, but the Akatsuki didn't seem to notice.

"We were surprised to hear from you," said Nagato, once everyone was familiar. "With the war going on."

"Not that it isn't welcome," said Yahiko. "We were hoping to extend an invitation to you before long. We've made a lot of progress and gained a few really good people that I think you'll be pleased with."

"I've been keeping tabs on you guys," said Jiraiya. "And I _have_ been really proud of what you've been doing."

Even the ever-stoic Konan looked pleased with that.

"I do have business to discuss with you," said Jiraiya. "But first, we just want to observe—come stay awhile in disguise."

"As I said, we'd love to have you," said Yahiko. "We've got a meeting this evening that we've got to get back for. It'll be the perfect introduction to our organization."

"Then, lead the way."

(The Rain)

The Akatsuki's current hideout was in an old bunker—judging by the amount of rust, a relic from the days before ninja villages. Because there were already six of them and they had children in their party, the Konoha group was allowed their own room, a cramped, standalone barrack with three bunkbeds barely packed inside. Kabuto was thrilled with the idea of sleeping on a top bunk, finding being up that high a very grown up thing to do, while Tenzō, in his claustrophobia, was less thrilled.

("You can discuss whatever you like when you're in the room," the adults told Shizune, Tenzō, and Kabuto when they deposited them in the room before the meeting. They decided against taking the kids to the assembly, to give them the alibi of ignorance as much as possible. "But always lock the door, stay together, use the codewords we taught you to verify one another's identities, and use codenames even when you're in the room, so you get into the habit.")

Doubling as a mess hall, they assumed, based on the tables lined against the wall, the Akatsuki's meeting room was a spacious area lined with rows of benches from back to front. At the very head, Yahiko leaned against a wooden podium that looked almost as old as the bunker itself, talking to two Akatsuki members they didn't recognize. There were already several people in the hall when they arrived, so they had to snag a seat in the middle, and several more people shuffled in as the minutes passed closer to start, methodically filling in the rows from front backwards. Despite the rest of the organization's eagerness to sit as close to the podium as they could, Konan and Nagato stood in the back, pressed up against the wall and watching everyone closely.

"Welcome, welcome," said Yahiko at time, and all the chatter in the room immediately ceased. "To those of you who've been in the bunker, thank you for joining us today, and to those of you who've been graciously outside the bunker gathering intel—" He gestured to a group of ninja in the middle, and they gave a quick cheer in response. "—we're glad to have you back.

"We talk about war a lot here," continued Yahiko. "The Akatsuki was started because of the devastation in the Second Ninja World War, and we tripled in numbers at the start of the Third. In every one of our meetings, we've discussed war, and we're inevitably going to discuss war today."

He paused, making intent, sweeping eye contact with everyone in the room.

"Given this, some might make the mistaken assumption that our group is built on war—that our group functions because of war. But, make no mistake, we have laid our foundations on peace. Each and every one of you is here because of your inspiring and unwavering dedication to peace."

There were a couple of enthusiastic hurrahs from the group, and the sound reverberated across the hall.

"I did not call all of you here today to talk about war," said Yahiko. "According to our intel, the war is at the beginning of its end, and peace is on the horizon. And, because we are a group that is built on peace, we will rise with it as the dawn. I have called you here today because our true purpose has just begun."

Another chorus of acclamations broke out, louder and more numerous this time.

"For our first order of business," said Yahiko. "I'm sure you've all noticed that there are three new comrades among us." Yahiko nodded towards the Konoha adults. "Would you like to introduce yourselves?"

The adults made a mild, intentional show of deciding who would do the honors, before Jiraiya got up and walked towards the front. Jiraiya was best at gathering intel when he was actively chasing it, while Kakashi was best at gathering intel when he was passively observing it. So, they decided that the twins would be on the quieter side, particularly since Tsunade was best at running support, and Raiden would be the louder of the three who usually did the talking.

"My name's Raiden," said Jiraiya, taking the podium after Yahiko welcomed him to it. "Back there's my wife Yoshiko and her twin brother Yoshiki. We got three kids with us, too: Yoshiko's and I's daughter Kaiya, and Yoshiki's two sons, Dai and Jun. Me and the twins were part of another peace group back in the day, but it was torn apart in the Second War when most of our numbers were killed. For the sake of my daughter, the three of us settled down in a town northwest of here, and we thought we were safe."

Pausing, Jiraiya looked like the words were physically difficult to get out. "But, when the Third Ninja World War started, our town wasn't so safe anymore. It burned to ash in a single night, destroyed by a raid that took the life of my sister-in-law and made Yoshiki a single father, and the rest of us barely got out with our lives." Jiraiya curled his right hand into a fist and clapped it against his left palm in an expression of resolve. "But, we're sick of running, and we're not doing it again. We want to make a change this time—do what we couldn't do in our youths—and end this cycle of war and suffering."

"May you rise with us as the dawn," said Yahiko, taking back the podium, and Jiraiya retook his seat by Tsunade. "We welcome you into our numbers."

A series of ununified greetings broke out, some echoing Yahiko's sentiment of "may you rise with us as the dawn" and others just saying some variation of "hello," and Yahiko quickly took back control. "Now, onto our second order of business—"

The meeting was long enough that there was a lot of content to mull over, but not so long that it dragged—around an hour. For most of the time, various ninja presented the intel that they'd gathered for group consideration, and though none of it was news to the Konoha ninja (though what could be, at this point?), it was still an impressive wealth of information. Between the lot of them, they had as good of a grasp on the happenings of the war as any ninja village.

They had to give it to Yahiko; he knew how to work a room. With each presentation, he made the presenter feel as if their contribution was the most important thing being said in the world at that time. He listened attentively, never once losing his focus, and was quick to give encouragement when it was needed. At the very end of the meeting, he opened up a brief, Socratic discussion as to their next move, as if he valued their opinions as much as he valued his own.

"There is no such thing as inaction in war," said Yahiko in conclusion. "All wars will eventually end—such is the nature of them—but peace, lasting peace, is like a garden. When work is put into prepping the soil and tending to the plants, a harvest will grow and prosper. However, in wars past, there was little effort put into building a strong base for peace to thrive in. A resolution was merely dumped at the finish line, and like seeds in bitter soil, nothing took, leading to another vicious cycle of war and death—wars which caused villages to grow more hostile and less likely to make concessions.

" _We_ have to be the ones to break the cycle. To do nothing in war is to support the destruction it causes, and we must refuse to conform to the rest of the world in their inactivity. With the means at our disposal, we will build the foundations that have been ignored for so long, and we will rise out of them with peace for a new era."

Yahiko clenched his right fist and placed it over his heart. "We will rise as the dawn."

"We will rise as the dawn," repeated the group, with the same amount of unwavering conviction, placing their hands over their hearts.

The room was alight with energy as the meeting ended and several excited conversations broke out, celebrating the potential ending of the war and optimistically planning for their future. Yahiko was in the middle of it all, easily switching from one conversation to the next, thriving in the attention of the hubbub.

Finally able to make proper conversation, the various Akatsuki members passed around Kakashi, Tsunade, and Jiraiya in a whirlwind of introductions, shaking their hands and welcoming them into the organization. The Konoha adults played their covers with smiles, concealing the internal dread they were starting to feel after witnessing Yahiko's almost hypnotic, persuasive authority.

Despite the life in the room, Konan and Nagato never moved from the back, standing like statuesque protectors on both sides of the door.

* * *

 

When Shizune turned twelve, Tsunade decided she was too old to not be a genin, so she sent her back to the village for a few days to take the Genin Exam. Tsunade didn't come with her, of course, but she did wait in a small town that was halfway between the Fire country's outer border and Konoha, and she provided Shizune with enough money to stay in a hotel for a few days and feed herself. Tsunade's strict instructions were simple: get in, lay low, take the exam, and return to her.

Shizune wasn't sure why being a genin mattered, because it wasn't as if anything she and Tsunade did would change, but Shizune was too young when they left the village to properly remember it and her curiosity made her eager to agree.

It was both the best and worst decision she had ever made. Catching sight of the village for the first time nearly knocked her off her feet. It was _home_ —a place that was hazy in her memories but not totally forgotten, judging by the painful ache in her chest. She had felt a longing for stability before, a longing for a regular life and friends her own age, but for the first time in her life, she felt truly homesick. There was a place and a culture that her family belonged to, that Tsunade belonged to, that _she_ belonged to.

She would have never considered leaving Tsunade. Tsunade had raised her and trained her, and Shizune owed her everything. But, knowing that she had to leave the village again made her so forlorn that, on her first night in the village, she collapsed onto the bed in her hotel room and cried. It made her feel very childish, but she felt uncontrollably alone, and she sobbed until exhaustion dragged her off to sleep.

The Academy registrar did not show any recognition when she gave her name, so Shizune, for a moment, thought she was in the clear in regard to laying low. But, when the registrar pulled her file to verify her citizenship, he suddenly paused in the middle of reading it and gave her a hard look.

"Shizune, you said?" he asked, and she knew any hopes she had of cover were blown.

"Yes," she said, freezing in place, unsure if Tsunade would prefer for her to stay and take the exam regardless or just make a run for it.

"Wait here, for a moment." He got up from his place at the desk and looked at the ANBU guard in the room significantly, and Shizune knew that waiting was less of a request and more of an order. "I'll be right back."

Nervously glancing at the clock on the wall every minute or so, Shizune knew that, logically, it only took him fifteen minutes to return, but with the ANBU ninja watching her like a hawk the entire time, it felt like hours.

"I'll schedule your exam for tomorrow morning at eight," he said, sitting back down, and then just as lightly: "And the Hokage asks that you meet him presently for lunch in his office."

Tsunade always spoke of the village and its inhabitants in a detached manner, as if it was just some place that she once lived and nothing more. However, there were a few names that made the aloofness feel a little more forced when she said them—a few people she was prone to share stories about when she drank a little too much. As such, if Shizune was less terrified, she would have felt instantly warm towards the Third Hokage, knowing that, despite her best attempts to hide it, Tsunade both thought highly of him and missed him.

But, she _was_ terrified. She was alone in a village that was basically unfamiliar, being led by a special operations soldier to meet one of the most powerful ninja in the world, without any idea as to what he wanted from her. So, she walked into the office on edge, readying for a conflict she knew she was not nearly skilled enough to take on.

"Shizune," he said, smiling kindly. "I don't know if you remember me."

She didn't, but she bowed respectfully anyway and said, "It's nice to see you again, Hokage, sir."

The Hokage dismissed the ANBU ninja from the room and invited her to sit down. "Tea?" he asked, pouring a cup for himself and readying a second one.

"Thank you," she said, sitting down, unsure if she had just accepted or refused.

Taking it as acceptance, he poured her a cup and took his team fiddling with both of their teas. Slower than she thought was necessary, he carefully put his teapot somewhere out of the way and stacked papers into arbitrary piles to make room for the cups, and the nerves eventually got to her.

"I'm not going to tell you where she is," she blurted out.

He paused for the briefest of moments before giving her a slight smile and placing the last stack of papers out of the way. "You're a brave girl," he said, passing her the cup of tea. "But, I'm not going to make you tell me where Tsunade is. What Tsunade does is her business, and what you do is yours. I just wanted to chat because it's been a very long time."

"Oh," she said, relaxing into her chair a little, before the severity of what she'd just done hit her, and she momentarily panicked again. "I'm sorry, Hokage, sir, that was inappropriate."

Nodding, he accepted her apology. "Are you in the village long?"

"No. Lady Tsunade is waiting for me. I want to get back to her as soon as I can."

"And how is my former student?"

Light and impartial, his tone was reminiscent of someone discussing the weather, and had it been anyone else, Shizune would have taken it at face value. It seemed that, despite Tsunade's claims that Orochimaru was the one that took after the Third Hokage, she picked up at least one habit from him. The inflection and the body language were an eerie mirror of Tsunade’s attempting to sound removed from something that she wasn't.

Shizune often wondered and tried to subtly pull information out of Tsunade about the people that she missed, but it had never occurred to Shizune to wonder about the people that missed Tsunade.

"She's good. Still…still retired but good."

"And yourself?"

"Good," she said more confidently. "Lady Tsunade is the best teacher I could have asked for, and we travel all over the place. It's nice."

"I'm glad to hear that you're taking the Genin Exam," he said. "Konoha could always use more ninja, even if those ninja are far away."

"It was Lady Tsunade's idea," she admitted. "She said that I was getting too old to not be a chūnin, much less a genin."

He smiled. "That doesn't surprise me. Did she tell you that she became a genin at six?" Shizune shook her head. "Yes, all of the Sannin did—they're still the youngest kids to ever graduate from the Academy. She was always very proud of that fact."

"Oh." It didn't surprise Shizune, given that Tsunade was famous for being _legendary_ , but as Tsunade rarely talked about her ninja days, it was still nice to hear, and she couldn't help but inquire further. "When did they become chūnin?"

"That very same year, just six months after graduating. The other genin hated them because they were all six and still better than the rest of them. Tsunade, Orochimaru, and Jiraiya, prideful as they were, loved it—"

The Third was quick to give stories about the Sannin and Konoha in general, and Shizune went from terrified to endeared faster than a flash of lightning, eager to absorb all the things that Tsunade wouldn't talk about. For nearly four hours he entertained her, as if they were old friends, and he inquired just as much about her travels as she did about Konoha. Suspecting he really just wanted to hear about how Tsunade was doing, Shizune tried to pull the least trashy but still exciting stories she could think of.

When it came time to say goodbye, it pained her.

"I wish you luck on your exam," said the Third. "Not that I think you'll need it."

"Thank you, sir," she said. "And thank you for lunch."

"Of course. Know that you are welcome back to the village at any time."

Shizune knew that the "you" in his sentence wasn't singular.

"Thank you," she said, forcing a smile. "I hope to see you and the village again soon."

With that, she whipped around at left, forbidding herself from showing any signs of doubt in front of him. She had no desire to divulge the fact that she was almost certain Tsunade was never coming back.

When Shizune returned to her, she did not divulge about her meeting with the Third, instead assuring her that no one recognized her. Shizune wasn't sure how Tsunade would react to the knowledge that she met with her old sensei and had no desire to upset her. To this day, it was the only thing Shizune ever hid from her.

Yet, here they were, somehow, almost two years later, and the only thing standing between Shizune and home was a bizarre but promised-to-be-short trip to stay in a bunker with the most motley crew that she could have imagined.

As far as Shizune, Tenzō, and Kabuto were concerned, the only thing that the three of them had in common was that they were all dragged along on this weird mission, and if the three of them were better socialized, that probably would have been enough to bring them together. But, as Shizune hardly spoke to anyone who wasn't Tsunade, Kabuto had never left the orphanage, and Tenzō was, for all intents and purposes, a little over two weeks old, they spent a good ten minutes awkwardly staring at one another in silence before Shizune had the idea to fish through Tsunade's stuff to find a deck of cards.

Shizune didn't know any card games that weren't meant for gambling and Tenzō didn't know any games at all, so they let Kabuto teach them a card game that he learned at the orphanage, where one had to slap the top of the desk depending on certain card combinations and one's ultimate goal was to _lose_ all of their cards.

"I wonder if my mother would be good at this game," said Shizune aloud, as a joke to herself, forgetting that neither Tenzō nor Kabuto would have any context for it.

"Is your mother good at games?" asked Tenzō.

"No, she's terrible. The only thing she's good at is losing."

"Then why were we at a casino?"

"She likes gambling, anyway," said Shizune, placing down a card that earned a slap. Her reflexes were much faster than their due to her amount of training, so she intentionally let Kabuto "take" it to even out the playing field. "She goes into debt in every town that we stay in." Shizune pressed her lips into a frown. "I don't know why, but your dad paid back half of the money she owed in that town. He wanted to pay back all of it, but she insisted he only pay half."

"Did he owe _her_ money?" asked Tenzō.

"I don't think so. I never leave my mother's side, and I had never seen him before him and my dad showed up." She looked at Kabuto. "Did the two of them say anything to you when you were on your way to meet up with us?"

Kabuto shook his head. "My mother gave me to them late at night, so I fell asleep."

"Who are they, exactly?" asked Tenzō to Shizune. "Are they important or something?"

"My parents are _very_ important," said Shizune, with pride. "They used to be on a team called the Sannin with one other man, and the three of them are considered to be three of the best ninja in the entire world." Shizune paused, not wanting to bring up too many details about Tsunade's past, but the main one was unavoidable. "My mother is retired now; she doesn't practice ninja work or medicine anymore. But, before that, she was known as _the_ best medical-nin to ever live."

"She's a medical-nin?" asked Kabuto, his eyes lighting up, so distracted that he missed an easy slap that Tenzō swiped instead.

"Was."

Well, _maybe_. Shizune was, in many regards, confused as to what exactly Tsunade's plans were. She was on a mission and they were returning home, but as far as Shizune knew, she was still just as afraid of blood as she was a week ago.

"I want to be a medical-nin when I grow up," he said. "My mother taught me how to heal people at the orphanage, and she said that Konoha would teach me even more things."

"I can teach you a couple things while we're here, if you'd like," said Shizune. "My mother has taught me a ton of things."

"Yes, please," he said, nearly giddy at the prospect, and Shizune smiled at his enthusiasm.

"What about my dad?" asked Tenzō. "Is he important?"

"I don't know," she said, and the smile slipped off her face. "I'd never even heard of him before, but my mother and I travel around a lot and we usually miss some news. I know he's the son of an old friend of my mother and father, though, and _he_ was a famous ninja, so your dad might be, too."

"So, is this mission super important, too?"

There were so many unusual, mysterious variables at play that she had no idea where to begin to understand the situation, and several of them bothered her a great deal. For starters, out of nowhere, Jiraiya and the son of their dead friend showed up with a kid who had been illegally experimented on and almost instantaneously convinced Tsunade to return to the village, something even a war attempting to obliterate their village couldn't do.

Then, there was the whole Rain business in the first place. Whatever they told Tsunade, it prompted them to adopt a seemingly random, young orphan. Then, the two Sannin plus Kakashi dragged all of them to the hideout of an organization in a country they didn't belong to (and what kind of organization even was this?). Their three tagalongs were given no explanation for this nor their need of cover, only vaguely alluding to the fact that it would help them stop an unnamed "bad guy."

The least important of these, though perhaps the most vexing, was that Kakashi, despite being a couple months _younger_ than she was, got to be disguised as an adult. She, on the other hand, still had to be undercover as a thirteen-year-old and was being lumped in with a nine-year-old and a five-year-old. Why Tsunade and Jiraiya treated Kakashi so much different than her was beyond her, and it made her feel a little humiliated in his presence.

In short, Shizune had no idea what was happening, but if it was enough to bring Tsunade out of retirement, she was sure of one thing:

"If I had to guess," she said. "Very."

* * *

 

When Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Kakashi came back from the meeting, they kicked the kids out of the room on the grounds of telling them to go grab dinner before bed (" _stay together_ ," they reiterated), giving them the privacy to debrief.

"Yahiko," said Tsunade, sitting down crisscross at the head of her bed, after they had briefly discussed, strategically, who should take what bunk. Tsunade took the middle one, under Tenzō, Jiraiya took the one closest to the door, under Shizune, and Kakashi took the one against the back wall, under Kabuto. "Is one charismatic motherfucker."

The two men gave noises of agreement as they took their place at the foot of their own bunks. Both too tall to properly sit, Kakashi slouched and leaned against one of the posts holding up the top bunk, while Jiraiya had to sprawl out entirely, resting his elbow on the bed and his head in his hand.

"I think the biggest mistake Zetsu made in the last timeline was letting Yahiko get killed," said Jiraiya. "Evil Yahiko could have persuaded entire countries to fight for him."

Like they had so often over the past couple weeks, the three of them fell into an awkward silence, trying to figure out how to interact with one another. Externally, their experience allowed them to seamlessly unify, and they were familiar enough with one another to make plans and put up a front worthy of the ninja they were known for being. After all, though they hadn't seen one another in a decade, Jiraiya and Tsunade spent their childhoods until their late twenties together, and things like that were not easily forgotten. Kakashi was close to Tsunade, even if she didn't remember it, and Jiraiya was projecting some of his feelings about his old friend onto Kakashi, creating a bond there, too.

Internally, though, when they no longer had to pretend to be other people, and weapons were put away, and it was just _them_ , the strained, half-familiarity was what made things uncomfortable and bizarre, akin to going on a delicate mission with two exes.

Jiraiya, in particular, had been in that scenario a few too many times to know that it never went well.

"So, our plan," said Tsunade, not wanting to dwell on it. "How exactly are we talking to these people?"

"If Jiraiya continues to play the extrovert," said Kakashi. "It gives me an excuse to hang back and talk to people alone, which would be perfect if Yahiko wasn't also the center of attention. So, to start, I think we should play to our strengths and each grab the orphan that makes the most sense."

Though their ultimate goal was to get Kakashi and Yahiko talking, they still had time to make it happen organically. To get Yahiko to really trust them, Kakashi planned on pitching him the idea of a union between all of the shinobi countries in great depth—the union he had actually lived in his previous life—as well as ideas on how to achieve it. Knowing Yahiko’s grand desire for peace, they hoped he would eat it up enough to bond with Kakashi as a fellow visionary, instilling a trust in all of them

"I entertain Yahiko," guessed Jiraiya. "While you and Tsunade start warming up to Nagato and Konan."

Kakashi nodded. "Yahiko wants to support the world, but the two of them are the one's supporting him. If we can get them to trust us—" It both was and wasn't funny, as things tended to go in grim situations, and a bleak smile crossed his face. "—we can build the foundations for peace."

Tsunade rolled her eyes, finding it further on the "wasn't funny" end of the spectrum than he did.

"I think it's a good start," said Jiraiya. "We should play it for two weeks and then reevaluate. That gives us a month to try and get you and Yahiko alone a couple of times."

"You make it sound like I'm trying to seduce him," said Kakashi.

"If you fuck up the union plan, you might have to." This earned him a well-deserved bird from Kakashi, but it didn't phase Jiraiya. "We shouldn't rush things, but we should drop the news about Hanzō and Danzō shortly after you're confident you've convinced him of your Shinobi Union thing and tell them to keep quiet until January. We can get back to Konoha faster, which I'm sure the kids will appreciate, because that's where we told them we were going in the first place."

"God, they must be so confused," said Tsunade, after giving a closed-mouth, barely-humored laugh. "We basically kidnapped two of them and forced them to stay with a cult."

"You know what they say," said Kakashi. "Exposure to cults at a young age builds character."

"Would you say," said Jiraiya, trying far too hard to look serious. "It builds the foundations for peace?"

Grabbing the closest object to her—Kakashi's pillow—Tsunade threw it at Jiraiya's face, and he lazily blocked it with a smirk on his face, even her superior strength not enough to counteract the wind resistance and softness of the pillow to do any real damage. A moment later, he paused, and the humor left him, the ghost of his smile still barely clinging to his face.

"When are we going to talk about the fact that we're being played?" he asked.

"I don't have any new revelations for you on that topic," said Kakashi.

"But, we _are_ being played," said Jiraiya. "There's no way in hell that you coming back on the morning of the Kannabi Bridge mission was a coincidence."

"Yes," said Kakashi softly, slumping back against the post a little further. "We are being played."

Looking back on his last lifetime, Kakashi realized that he'd taken the short amount of time that the peak weirdness and magnitude of conflict occurred for granted. Though the Fourth Ninja World War was a whirlwind like he'd never experienced, it _was_ a metaphorical ripping-off-the-bandage—by the time he had properly processed everything, it was long over, and the need to wonder was gone. This time around, however, the second apocalypse was theoretically eighteen years away, leaving plenty of time for it to plague him.

Tsunade and Jiraiya were still in the "processing" phase, if trying to ignore everything around them so they could sleep at night could be considered processing. Both thought they had hit rock bottom, but life, as it always did, continued to outdraw them. In the flash of a moment, they found out that rock bottom was far below what either of them had ever seen. Their situations, the entire world's situation, were so worse than they could have dreamed, and it shook them in ways that even Jiraiya found hard to articulate.

"If I had to guess," said Kakashi. "Kaguya and Zetsu managed to come back, too, otherwise this was a shitty plan on her part. But, if that's the case, there's no reason that I would have needed to come back to save Obito, because Zetsu could have just told Madara to pick a better successor."

"I'd say that maybe she just wants you to make a lot of changes," said Jiraiya. "Hoping that something you do causes the war to go in her favor, but it's all the wrong changes. She would want to make changes that drive the world apart, and you, no matter when you were brought back, would always inevitably use your future knowledge to bring everyone together sooner. We've already grabbed Kabuto, we're already in the Rain trying to bring the Akatsuki on our side, we're already making plans to kill Danzō…why would she have you come back at the one time you could fix as much as you wanted to?"

"Is there a way that Kaguya could have even banked on Kakashi touching the crystal in the first place?" asked Tsunade. "Sure, she would have known that Naruto and Sasuke would've had to go and try to deal with it, but Kakashi and Sakura just went because they felt a sense of obligation and didn't want Naruto and Sasuke to go alone."

"Unless, she was banking on that sense of obligation," said Kakashi. It was a stretch, but he couldn't consider it completely out of the realm of possibility. "Sakura said something when—" _She died_ , added the terrible, little voice in his head, but he wasn't ready to give up hope, wasn't ready to let go, he _couldn't_ , and the words got caught in his throat. "She said, 'I suppose it was always meant to be the four of us, even now—'" _At the very end._ "As I said, I don't like playing the destiny card, but I've seen too much to discount it entirely."

"I don't like any of this," said Jiraiya. "I don't like that we don't know. We're three steps ahead of the rest of the world, but we're somehow three steps behind her. We know absolutely everything except the one thing we need to know most. _Somehow_ , we're being played."

"Either way," said Tsunade. "Are either of you willing to step out of the game? Let Danzō live and hand him Kabuto and Tenzō? Hand over Obito to Madara? Let Minato and Kushina die?"

Jiraiya's and Kakashi's silence spoke such great volumes that none of the three even felt it was worth acknowledging.

"Minato and Kushina," said Jiraiya, steering the conversation back towards something productive. Despite the Armageddon and everything else, their deaths—the thought of losing them—were still haunting him the most. "Best case scenario, we prevent the attack from happening altogether, but worse comes to worst, as long as we make sure we're there and everyone's prepared, Minato should be fine, but—" Jiraiya looked at Tsunade. "—what are the odds of Kushina surviving the extraction?"

"She's an Uzumaki, so she's got a better chance than most," said Tsunade. "The extraction killed Mito, but they only extracted it after she was dying. Childbirth will make it harder for her, but if she's otherwise fine and she receives proper medical care in time, I say she's got at least a chance."

Jiraiya got a weird look on his face. "Could you survive the extraction?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're an Uzumaki and you've got that thing," said Jiraiya, nodding to her forehead. "Which makes you nearly immortal as long as you're conscious. If it got ripped out of Kushina, and we put it in you until Naruto was old enough, could you survive the extraction?"

Though her first instinct was to argue, and she probably _should_ have argued, and though Kakashi knew Tsunade's first instinct was to argue, and he probably _should_ have tried to prevent the bizarre altercation that could follow Jiraiya's words, neither could force the words to come out. If no one else, Tsunade _could_ —

Before any of them could say anything else on the matter, the kids knocked and peeked in through the door, and the adults snapped back into character like nothing was the matter. However, it was not forgotten.

But, more on that later.

(Unease)

Their first night in the Rain, Tenzō woke up screaming.

It was hard to say which of the adults was awake first, differing only by milliseconds, but Kakashi was the first at his side. Jiraiya's first response was to pull a weapon and Tsunade's was to look around wildly for Shizune and prepare to grab her and bolt, so it took them both a couple seconds of blinking the sleep out of their eyes to fully register who was yelling and why.

"Cramped," repeated Tenzō, looking around frantically without seeing anything, the rest of his body unmoving as if invisible binds were holding him to the bed. "Cramped. Cramped."

"We're in the Rain, remember?" asked Kakashi softly, unsure of what words he should say to comfort him. "We're far away, in the Rain."

"Three thirty-five," said Tsunade, looking at her watch, her voice breathless as she tried to compose herself. By this point, Shizune and Kabuto were awake and sitting up in bed, and Jiraiya and Kakashi both shushed the one closest to them. "Someone remember three thirty-five."

"What do we do?" asked Jiraiya.

"Wait for it to ride out," said Tsunade. "It'll pass."

For four-and-a-half disquieting minutes, they stood in silence and watched Tenzō's night terror (except for Kakashi, who was trying to quietly but hastily explain to Kabuto what a night terror was), deliberately not making eye contact with one another in the uncomfortableness of the moment. Eventually, it _did_ pass, and Tenzō's body relaxed into the bed in sleep. No one dared to move for several moments, almost afraid it would start back up again.

"Don't…don't mention this to him tomorrow," said Tsunade. "There's a chance, when he wakes up, that he won't remember it."

* * *

 

He didn't.

* * *

 

Their first couple of days with the Akatsuki were surprisingly mundane. In many ways, the Akatsuki was similar to the ANBU; there was the same sort of forced routine that came from desperately clinging to normalcy in an abnormal life. In depth mission work and plans weren't discussed outside of meetings, and regular conversations mainly consisted of general happening around the bunker and the passionate discussions and debates that one might expect of a revolutionary group.

Fifteen years ago, Kakashi would have been right in his element. Hokage Kakashi, however, had fallen out of practice with regular life and no longer knew how to be a soldier. He was good at adapting, of course, and showed no signs of this unfamiliarity, but he had trouble shaking the subtle feeling of something being wrong, like looking at a painting on the wall that was tilted just slightly to the left.

He did not discuss it with her, but he could tell Tsunade had yet to fall into her footing, either. Every so often, he caught her staring at her surroundings in disbelief, like if she blinked a few times, she might be back in a casino somewhere.

Jiraiya was harder to read—much harder. He found his use in the group by telling stories, though, using their cover as wanderers to give the occupants of the bunker some much craved tales of the world outside. When he sat at one of the tables in the common area and spoke, everyone naturally gravitated around him, pulling up benches in a half-circle shape to listen. All three of the kids sat at his feet, just as enamored, and Tsunade sat by his side, pretending to be just as enamored. Playing their cover, Kakashi sat behind the crowd.

"What direction did you say that you came to the Rain from, again?" asked one of the Akatsuki members.

"South," said Jiraiya. "Far south. We spent some time hopping from island to island north of the Land of Sea, before taking a boat to the Land of Tea, where we found out about—" Jiraiya gestured around the room. “We were nervous, of course, coming so far north, further north than we'd been in several months, but we took a boat to the Land of Rivers and went through there, and it didn't give us any trouble."

"We hid out in the Land of Rivers for a while," said Yahiko. "We're thinking of going back, soon, actually. It's usually quiet. They don't tend to care about anyone's problems but their own."

"And what of the southern islands?" asked another member. "We've not heard any information about them in a while. Are they still at peace?"

Jiraiya nodded. "They take after the Land of Rivers. Or, maybe, the Land of Rivers takes after them. They stay out of the mainland wars and stick to their own, if they have to have them. 'Cept, they usually settle their own wars by boat. When we were in the Land of Moon, we saw an old war vessel that was as tall as a mountain and as wide as the sea itself. They say it was used when the Land of Sea started a war with the United Islands—"

It was fascinating how easy stories came to Jiraiya. Kakashi wasn't sure if Jiraiya's story about the sea-bound battle was true, not knowing enough about the islands to say one way or the other, but it didn't really matter. The entire room was silent, captivated by the animated way Jiraiya told his story as he described the war like he was there.

Though Kakashi did not like it as well as his romance novels, of course, and as much as he liked giving him shit, Jiraiya was pleasant to listen to. Jiraiya had a way with words unlike anybody he'd ever met. Unlike the other great speakers Kakashi knew, like Yahiko, who spoke to persuade, and Naruto, who spoke to inspire, Jiraiya just spoke to bring people joy for the hell of it.

"Not much for stories?"

Kakashi turned to see a man sit down at his table a couple seats down. He was older than most of the Akatsuki, at least fifty, if not older.

"If you'd heard him talk as much as I have," said Kakashi. "You'd be sick of the stories, too."

The man snorted. "I'm Yuuto, by the way."

"Yoshiki," introduced Kakashi, and they shook hands.

They fell into a natural silence, listening to Jiraiya tell his story, before Yuuto said, "I lost my wife about four years back. It's what motivated me to come here."

"I'm sorry for your loss," said Kakashi.

"I'm sorry for yours."

Though it was part of their cover and therefore unavoidable, Kakashi felt bad for misplacing Yuuto's sympathies. It wasn't of much consequence, because it wasn't as if people had a limited capacity to care for others, but it sat wrong with him all the same.

"How are you faring?" asked Yuuto.

"It's easier with the two of them," said Kakashi, nodding towards Jiraiya and Tsunade. "I don't even want to know where I'd be without out them. But, as you know, there's no good time to lose your wife."

Yuuto nodded. "How are your kids faring?"

"Dai is taking it pretty badly. There's never a good time to lose your mother, either, and the way she was taken…he still wakes up screaming, sometimes. I like to think Jun's faring better, but honestly, I think he's just too young to fully understand."

"Give your boys time to adjust. It'll take time for all of you."

"It's just—you take a vow to protect her, right? You go up, and you swear to protect her, and you think you're in the clear." Kakashi wasn't sure where any of this was coming from, but in the spirit of his cover, he didn't try and stop it. "I look back on that moment and I know there was something that I could have done, that I should have done, because I swore to protect her, but she slipped right through my grasp. Now, because I couldn't, she's just…gone forever, and I don't know how to make peace with that."

"I'm going to be honest, kid," said Yuuto, resting his arms on the table. "You might feel guilty for the rest of your life. It's just how things go sometimes. But, your life ain't over. You have to hold onto what you have and piece yourself back together from it. You've still got your boys, and that's a start. You've still got your sister and your brother-in-law and your niece, and that's a start. You've got us, and that's a start. Take all that and don't let go."

Kakashi nodded. "It might take a while," said Yuuto. "And the pain of losing her is never gonna go away completely. But, it'll soften. Time doesn't heal all wounds, but it does ease their sting."

With a sigh, Kakashi leaned further back in his chair. _Will it?_

* * *

 

Tenzō was not the only one plagued with nightmares during their stay—just the most vocal. Stuck in a habit of sleeping very little since his journey back into the past, Kakashi watched as Tsunade tossed and turned in her sleep and jolted awake several times during their second night. He made a show of pretending to be asleep every time that she woke as to not embarrass her, until he finally drifted off somewhere around four-thirty.

On their third night, Tsunade figured out that sleep did not have the will to come to either of them and gave up the idea of rest entirely, whispering to Kakashi in the dark, shortly after one in the morning, "Do you want to go spar?"

Hoping the fight would exhaust him to the point of getting some semblance of slumber and glad that Tsunade was finally showing interest in being a functional ninja again, he agreed.

Because it was an old ninja bunker, there were two rooms available for sparring, so everyone's ninja skills could remain intact when they were trapped inside for most of the time. Neither were taken, due to the late hour, so they arbitrarily picked the one on the right.

"Ground rules," said Tsunade, as they faced opposite from one another. "Quiet enough to not wake anyone—"

"And no blood?" he guessed.

"No blood."

They hesitated for a moment, both in a defensive stance. Then, Kakashi nodded his head, a gesture which Tsunade returned, and they ran at one another.

It was unfortunate for Tsunade that Kakashi was already very familiar with her fighting style, when she had almost nothing on him to go on. As such, he knew that, even with her perfect chakra control, she favored her right leg over her left. Though it was a bit of a dirty shot, he wasn't sure how many hits he was going to get in after she grew less rusty. Bursting into five clones with a speed Tsunade didn't possess, his clone feigned going at her from the side with a fire jutsu, forcing her to jump away, while he used a small, earth jutsu to grab ahold of her left ankle. As expected, her ankle twisted and she fell, catching herself with her forearms on the floor.

"You're out of shape," he teased, as she smashed the earth holding her leg hostage and returned to her feet.

Narrowing her eyes, she took the offensive this time, coming at him with a series of blows. Kakashi could handle hand-to-hand sparring with almost anyone, but Tsunade and, for the same reason, Sakura, were two exceptions. Even though he was stronger than most, his strength paled in comparison to theirs. His reflexes and speed were far better, but the ability to block a punch mattered less if the punch was forceful enough to rip off the arm he was blocking with.

In a real fight, there were several ways he could have gotten around it, either by using speed to knock out his opponent before they had a chance to attack or by using a combination of powerful, ranged jutsu to stay out of melee (though, neither Tsunade nor Sakura were so easily defeated). Usually, however, the point of sparring was to _not_ cause serious harm to one's opponent. Not to mention, because of the "no blood" rule, weapons were completely off the table. So, he was stuck dodging her attacks and tossing a series of elemental jutsu at her to slow her down.

None of them phased her. She either counteracted them with a quick flash of the same element or broke through them with strength alone. He wasn't nearly as fast as he was in his prime, and his stamina was abysmal compared to hers, so he only got a couple more blows in before she started cornering him.

"If you're not a liar," she said, smirking as she noticed him tiring. "You're out of shape, too."

Knowing she was close to getting the upper hand, Tsunade came at him twice as hard to wear down any remaining energy he had. As a last-ditch effort, he swung his arm around and a current of water emerged from it, the current so powerful that it would have swept away almost anyone. Tsunade, however, dove right through it, and her fist collided with the outside of his left shoulder, bringing him to his knees, and a sickening crack echoed throughout the room.

Her eyes widened; she thought she was holding back enough to prevent doing any real damage. "Did that just break your shoulder?"

"I broke it a few weeks ago," he said, his voice strained as he got to his feet. "It just…rebroke a little."

"Sit." He did as she asked. Kneeling beside him, she poked at his shoulder to assess the damage. "The bone dislocated, too. Bite down on something and try to relax your shoulders. This is going to hurt like a bitch."

He'd had enough broken bones aligned before to know she was right, so he took off one of his gloves and bit down on it. Placing the fingers on her right hand on the front of his shoulder to feel the break and bracing it with her left hand, she carefully moved the top of his shoulder back in line with the rest of it. It felt like a knife was jaggedly cutting into his bones, and his teeth clenched painfully on the leather in his mouth to try and distract from it. Then, the pain diminished.

"There," she said. Chakra poured out of her hands and into his shoulder, starting the process of mending the break, and they sat on the floor of the training room in silence for nearly a minute. "Sorry about that."

"'Come spar with me,' she says," teased Kakashi. "'I'm going to break your shoulder,' she says.'"

"Don't make me break it again."

* * *

 

Jiraiya noticed that Kakashi and Tsunade left in the night, waking up around three to find their beds empty. But, he didn't have a good opportunity to ask about it until he, Kakashi, and the boys were getting ready to join the girls and the rest of the Akatsuki for breakfast, and he noticed that Kakashi's shoulder was dark purple and twice as large as it should have been.

"Where the hell did you guys go last night?" he asked.

"Sparring," groaned Kakashi, splashing water on his face and attempting to stretch away some of the soreness.

"Considering you still _have_ an arm," said Jiraiya. "She was either going easy on you or she's lost her touch."

"She went easy," said Kakashi. "So, I would try to stay off her bad side."

Jiraiya snorted. "Me? Get on her bad side? I would _never._ "

Logically, Jiraiya had spent enough nights with the two of them over the past couple weeks to know that neither of them slept well, and middle-of-the-night sparring sessions were par for the course for insomniac ninja. However, even though Jiraiya and Tsunade had been friends for nearly twenty-one years before she left, they had not spent a moment alone together since their fight at the hotel, and she had yet to allow any sort of one-on-one conversation between the two of them. If he tried to acknowledge her directly when they were with other people, she would subtly open up the conversation to include the others. With her apparent willingness to be alone with whoever else, Jiraiya was beginning to suspect that Tsunade was intentionally ignoring him.

* * *

 

"Ninja lesson number one," said Jiraiya, dumping a small pack of square parchment on Tsunade's bed. "Picking up a piece of paper."

Half to entertain Kabuto and Tenzō and half because Kakashi, Jiraiya, and Tsunade were the most qualified teachers those kids were ever going to have, the adults decided that the kids ought to come back to Konoha with a bit of ninja experience. To not take up a sparring room for what was essentially a knowledge lesson, they all crammed inside their room and used Tsunade's bed as a makeshift table. Kakashi, Shizune, and Kabuto were on Kakashi's bed, the former acting as a test dummy for a mini, medical-jutsu lesson for the latter two, who were squished nearly on top of Kakashi's back as they concentrated healing chakra into his shoulder. Standing at the end of Kakashi's bunk, Tsunade corrected Kabuto's and, occasionally, Shizune's forms as they went along. By far the most comfortable of the six, Jiraiya and Tenzō sat on Jiraiya's bed.

"Is it going to hurt?" asked Tenzō, looking at the paper warily.

"No, it's not going to hurt," said Kakashi. "It's just a test."

"A test to see if we can pick up a piece of paper?"

"Not quite," said Jiraiya. "There are five types of elemental chakra natures, and each of them is weak to one and strong against another: wind—" He turned up his palm dramatically and a gust of air emerged from his fingertips. "—fire—" A burst of flames took the wind release's place. "—water—" A jet of water swirled out of his palm and extinguished the fire. "—earth—" Clumps of dirt appeared in his hand, absorbing the stream of water. "—and—"

He looked at Kakashi expectantly, unable to do a lightning release himself. Rolling his eyes, Kakashi mumbled "drama queen" and shot a small burst of lightning into the dirt in Jiraiya's hand. The dirt disintegrated, and the leftover pieces spilled out onto Tsunade's bed.

"—lightning," finished Jiraiya theatrically, ignoring Tsunade's outraged, "Hey!"

"Whoa," said Kabuto and Tenzō in unison, the former resting his entire body weight on Kakashi's right shoulder as he leaned in to get a closer look, and Kakashi had an arm ready to catch him in case he flipped over it entirely.

"Every ninja is born with an affinity for one of these five elements," said Jiraiya. "Your affinity element will be the easiest for you to learn and master, though it may not be the only one you can use. Most jōnin, the highest ninja rank, are expected to master two, and some can learn even more than that."

"You can use four?" asked Tenzō to Jiraiya, who nodded.

"How many can you guys use?" asked Kabuto, looking between Kakashi and Tsunade.

"Everything but wind," said Tsunade.

"All five," said Kakashi, which prompted another unified "whoa" from the youngest two.

"Make no mistake," said Jiraiya, irritated that the wonder was taken off him. "Yoshiki is the weakest ninja here."

"Who is the strongest?" asked Kabuto.

"Me," said Jiraiya and Tsunade in unison, causing both to narrow their eyes at one another.

"You want to arm wrestle this out?" asked Tsunade.

"Physical strength isn't the _only_ factor that goes into being a strong ninja—"

"If you two are done with your di—" began Kakashi irritably, before remembering that there were children with them, and he thought better of it. "Any day now with the pieces of paper."

"Right," said Jiraiya. "These are special pieces of paper used to determine your nature affinity. Depending on your element, it will react in a certain way when you pick it up. If your affinity is wind, it'll split in half; if it's fire, the paper will burn; if it's water, the paper will get soggy; if it's earth, the paper will turn to dirt; if it's lightning, the paper will crinkle."

"And, all we have to do is pick it up?" asked Tenzō.

Jiraiya nodded. "Here, I'll start."

He reached down and grabbed one of the pieces of paper, and it turned to ash in his hands.

"Whoa," said Tenzō and Kabuto in unison.

Looking between Kakashi and Tsunade, Jiraiya gestured at the pieces of paper. As soon as they picked theirs up, it wrinkled in their hands.

"Hey," said Shizune, smiling as she picked her piece up; it split into two pieces. "You two really are twins."

"Now," said Jiraiya, lowering his voice dramatically and putting a serious expression on his face. "It's time for the two of you to learn your element."

Neither moved, each looking at the remaining paper in apprehension.

"Go on," said Kakashi, nudging Kabuto.

With a brave face, Kabuto climbed down off the bed and took a deep breath, never taking his eyes of his target. Then, he carefully lifted his chosen piece, and it crumbled to dirt in his hands.

"Earth!" he said excitedly, swirling around to show everyone the soil in his hands, accidentally spilling more onto Tsunade's bed.

"Very good," said Jiraiya. Noticing Tsunade's lips press into a flat, displeased line, Jiraiya wisely brushed all the dirt off her bed before turning to Tenzō. "Your turn."

Able to reach without getting off the bed, Tenzō snatched up a piece of paper as fast as his arms would let him, as if he was afraid the leftover pieces would bite him if he lingered. Instead of one of the usual reactions, Tenzō's paper melted into a pile of mud in his hands.

"What does _that_ mean?" asked Shizune, not knowing it was even possible to get anything besides the normal five.

The adults made uneasy, darting eye contact with one another. Ordinarily, it _wasn't_ possible to get anything besides the documented five reactions. Even for people who specialized in one of the more unique, combination elemental jutsus, they still had a particular element that they favored, which was reflected in the paper. Whatever Orochimaru did to him, it made Tenzō emerge from the test tube _wrong_ —as someone who was not, genetically, a proper human being.

"We'll talk about it later," said Kakashi, who had no desire to communicate that fact to him any time soon. "There's nothing bad about it. It's just…different. But, all of you, you're not to mention that this happened to anyone, understood?"

All three of the kids nodded.

* * *

 

"Ground rule," said Kakashi, as he and Tsunade stood at opposite ends of the sparring room and faced on another. "Don't break any more of my bones."

His arm wasn't healed enough to spar like they had the night before, so he and Tsunade decided to work on speeding up her reflexes by blocking and dodging his attacks. As his left arm with pinned in a sling, he was only able to throw right-handed punches her way, but his speed still exceeded hers to the point that it didn't matter. Plus, doing normal attacks at half capacity had the added benefit of working his stamina.

"I like this sparring less," said Tsunade, frowning after he'd gotten his eighth hit in.

"All the more reason to do it," said Kakashi. "Your reflexes are terrible."

"You're just enjoying it because I broke your arm."

"If you'd like to get hit less, I'd recommend dodging every once in a while." She sent a death glare his way, so he smartly added: "It's not like we'll be sparring long, anyway."

The Akatsuki always had a couple people keep watch at night, in case of an intrusion or attack. Yahiko never kept watch, busy as he was with all the leadership responsibilities, so Konan and Nagato were paired for watch every few nights. Through some subtle asking around, they managed to figure out that Konan's and Nagato's watch was that night, so they were planning on ambushing them into conversation whenever they showed.

Sometime after two, once everyone besides Kakashi and Tsunade had gone to bed, they heard two sets of footsteps and low voices. Dropping their stances, they left the training room to find Konan and Nagato sitting off to the side of the entry hall.

"We thought we heard your voices," said Tsunade, as they walked over to them.

"Our night for watch duty," explained Konan. "What are you two still doing up?"

"Beating the shit out of one another," said Tsunade. "Want company? I've been losing all night, and I'm over it."

"Sure," said Nagato, and Tsunade and Kakashi sat down. "What happened to your shoulder?"

"I lost last night," said Kakashi, nodding his head to Tsunade. "And _someone_ doesn't like pulling punches."

"Look, how was I supposed to know it was going to crack your shoulder?"

"Probably by asking yourself 'is this hard enough to crack someone's shoulder'—"

"How long are you going to whine about this? I've nearly fixed it—"

"Is this a twin thing?" asked Konan, knowing, of course, that they weren't actually twins, but unsure of how else to interrupt them and keep their cover.

Kakashi and Tsunade shrugged. Bickering, of course, was good for their cover, as families were usually prone to do so. However, bickering had become a bizarre coping mechanism for Kakashi, Tsunade, and Jiraiya, getting their minds off the weirdness happening around them.

"No Yahiko?" asked Tsunade, not wanting to divulge the fact that they'd inquired in depth about nightshifts.

"Yahiko doesn't keep watch," said Konan. "He has more responsibilities than we do, and he uses his time prepping for meetings and communicating with other members, so Nagato and I are paired for watch instead."

"When's the next meeting?" asked Kakashi.

"We aim for about every two weeks," said Nagato. "Sometimes sooner, if something important happens, but never longer. Yahiko thinks it's bad for morale if we don't meet regularly."

They were starting to notice that "Yahiko" was a consistent conversation topic among them. As they were limited on what they could discuss due to their cover and the need for secrecy, Kakashi decided to keep it.

"He seems like he's good at boosting morale," said Kakashi. "He's a great speaker."

A light blush crossed over Konan's cheeks, and she looked down at her hands, as if embarrassed by it, and smiled. "Yeah, he is."

"How long have you guys been doing this?" asked Tsunade.

"A few years," said Konan.

"It was Yahiko's idea, of course," said Nagato, less flustered in praising Yahiko than Konan. "To bring a bunch of people together. He's always been good at this kind of thing. At first, it was just us and a few friends, and then it just kind of exploded."

"Does anyone hold it against you three?" asked Tsunade. "That you're so young?"

"No," said Konan. "Everyone listens to Yahiko."

Acting like she was stretching her back, Tsunade turned away from the orphans to inconspicuously give Kakashi an uneasy look out of the corner of her eye, which he took to mean something along the lines of "Kakashi, what the fuck have you dragged me into?" He had to admit, something about Yahiko made him uneasy, too. Nagato and Konan unsettled him on principle (they did level his village and murder him; things like that are hard to get past), but Yahiko was a wildcard that threw him off his game.

"We knew someone sort of similar to you, once," said Kakashi to Nagato, gesturing towards his own eyes, to move the conversation away from Yahiko. "In our old group. He was one of those Uchiha from the Fire country."

"Oh, yeah, with the weird eyes," said Tsunade, playing along. "Shari-something, wasn't it? Shari…"

"Sharingan, I think," said Kakashi.

"That's what it was. Sharingan."

"I've heard of them," said Nagato. "The Uchiha."

Knowing that they were, in all actuality, from Konoha, Nagato gave Kakashi a curious look. If it was worth working into their cover, Kakashi hoped he concluded, it was something significant.

"Would you spar with me, sometime?" asked Nagato to Kakashi. "If you ever watched your old friend fight, maybe I can learn something."

"Sure," said Kakashi, shrugging. "I can't promise how much I’ll remember, but it's worth a shot."

"You can't out in the open," said Konan, grabbing Nagato's arm protectively, her voice dropping so low that it was barely audible. "No one can know what all you can really do."

"When's the next time you have watch?" asked Tsunade. "I can keep lookout with you while the boys go do their thing."

"That sounds fair," said Nagato to Konan, almost half assuring her and half asking for her permission.

"Fair enough," relented Konan. "We're scheduled for watch again two nights from now."

"I'll just be glad to spar with someone other than her, to tell you the truth," said Kakashi, nodding over to Tsunade, who shot him a glare.

"Do be careful, though, Nagato," said Tsunade, in a sickly-sweet voice. "He's very brittle. Didn't drink enough milk as a child, apparently."

"And do be careful, Konan," said Kakashi, shooting a glare back. "Should someone attack you on your watch, she can't dodge worth a damn, so really the only thing she'll be useful for is a human shield."

"Only thing I'm good for, huh?" asked Tsunade. "I suppose your shoulder's going to have to stay broken, then, because I'm not 'good' enough at anything to fix it."

"What do you think Kaiya is for?"

"Kaiya only listens to me."

"Then, what do you think I have _Jun_ for?"

"Is this why you two spar at night?" asked Nagato, as he and Konan looked on uncertainly, both unsure if they should be humored or afraid. "So this—" He made an open-hand, circling gesture. "—doesn't bleed into the daytime?"

"Probably," said Tsunade.

* * *

 

Jiraiya did not know what time Kakashi and Tsunade came back to the room, but he knew it was late; when he woke up shortly before five, their beds were still empty, and when he and the kids woke up for good at seven, the two of them were still out cold. Concerned about their near constant sleep deprivation, he elected to let them sleep and ushered the kids out of the room as quietly as they could manage.

When they arrived at breakfast, Jiraiya noticed that Yahiko was missing, and after a little bit of inquiry, he found out that he was in one of the war rooms, prepping some plans. He told the kids to stay at breakfast ( _stay together_ , he reiterated) and went to find him.

The door to the war room was cracked ajar, no doubt to let someone know that Yahiko was inside should there be an emergency, and through the crack Jiraiya saw Yahiko looking over a series of papers. Jiraiya knocked and peeked his head inside.

"Have a second?" asked Jiraiya.

"Yeah, of course," said Yahiko, with a wide smile, waving him in. "Shut the door, won't you?"

Jiraiya did as he asked and sat at the table. "Always keeping busy, huh?"

"Have to. There's a lot to do."

"You're handling it very responsibly, at least," said Jiraiya.

Yahiko looked pleased with that. "So, now that you've been here a few days, what do you think of everything?"

"I'm impressed," said Jiraiya. "You're doing good things here."

"Yeah?" asked Yahiko.

There was a quick flash of uncertainty in his voice—his unending confidence slipping for a moment—seeking Jiraiya's approval. Yahiko might have been clever and charismatic beyond all measure, but he _was_ still just a kid, a kid just as in need of saving as Kabuto and Tenzō. With Yahiko kept alive and with Jiraiya, Kakashi, and Tsunade rekindling a friendship with the three orphans, the Akatsuki could be a completely different organization in this timeline; they could be a force used for good.

"Yeah," said Jiraiya. "You three have come a long way."

"Well, it's like you always said," said Yahiko, dropping his voice into a near-whisper. "You can't expect the world to be good. You have to be the goodness in the world." Yahiko shuffled through some of the papers in front of him, skimming them over as he did. "So, we try, at least."

Jiraiya almost took his leave there, as Yahiko _did_ appear to be too busy for his company, but Yahiko apparently didn't mind, because he said, "So, you know what we've been up to. How has the last decade treated you?"

"About the same as the last, truthfully. Filled with missions, ended in a war—"

"Still lugging three kids around," joked Yahiko, grinning.

"Best, yet," said Jiraiya, grinning, too. "They're still not mine." He relaxed back into his chair. "Wrote a book, which was new. It sold terribly, though."

"What's it called?"

" _The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi._ "

"I think I might have heard of it—"

"No, you haven't."

"I haven't," admitted Yahiko, smiling. "Do you have a copy on you?"

"No," said Jiraiya. "Not so great for cover."

"That's a shame. I would've liked to read it. I've always enjoyed your stories, and from the way the rest of our organization listens to you, I'd say they do, too." Satisfied with whatever he was doing, Yahiko stacked the papers surrounding him and placed them in a crate beside the table. "Thank you, by the way."

"For what?"

"Everything, really. This entire organization—its goals, its ideals, its plans, _us_ —owes its creation to you."

Knowing what he knew, Jiraiya was not as flattered as Yahiko was intending him to be. "Then, I have a favor to ask of you," said Jiraiya, forcing a serious expression on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Do you three still have those frog costumes I gave you?"

* * *

 

Tsunade awoke after a strange, vivid nightmare, shaken by the experience, and Kakashi awoke to the sound of her sitting up violently, checking her watch, and yelling, "Oh _fuck_."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked, sitting up just as violently.

"It's _noon_ ," she said, tossing her watch to him as if he needed proof of her claim instead of just trusting that she wouldn't lie about something as mundane as the current time. "We slept until _noon_."

"I mean, we went to bed at six," said Kakashi, attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Noon was truthfully later in the day than he'd slept in a long time, but it didn't _disturb_ him. "Sometimes, when people are tired, they do this thing called sleeping in—"

"Oh, shut up." Tsunade ran her hands through her hair and they hovered awkwardly about three inches past the end, as she forgot, in her haziness, that her hair was only shoulder length in her current form. After she took a deep breath, her tone softened. "Sorry, I...strange dreams. Very strange dreams."

He nodded, accepting her apology. "At least we got closer to Nagato and Konan."

"Yeah." Though her fogginess was beginning to lift, her uneasiness only grew worse as she processed their conversations with the pair the night before. "I don't like this. I don't like _them_. There's something off about the three of them that terrifies me."

"I'm sure a lot of people would say that about the Sannin."

"I mean it, Kakashi," she said sharply. "If anything starts to go south, we have to kill them."

"You're not about to start claiming prophesy dreams, are you?" She shot him a glare, so he continued: "I assure you, I have no love for them. If something goes down, it won't be me you have to convince."

"You think you'll be able to do it?" asked Tsunade.

"Yes," said Kakashi, without hesitation. "Jiraiya's a lot of things but being lenient on the things that matter isn't one of them. If it comes to it, he'll do the right thing."

"He's always been stupidly selfless when it comes to things like that," she muttered.

 _Not like me_ , she thought; just like the man in front of her, she had let her brokenness get to her a few too many times. _Not like you_.

Definitely _not like Orochimaru._

For her own sanity, she tried desperately not to think about her old teammate, had since their journey began, but it was all beginning to seep through the door she had locked her thoughts behind. Her anxiety about the Akatsuki was bleeding into her anxiety about Orochimaru, which was bleeding back into her anxiety about the Akatsuki, and it was all bleeding into her anxiety about her swift departure from retirement and the end of the world. _We have to kill them_ was starting to warp into _we have to kill him_.

Noticing the panic in her eyes and the vaguely green tint on her face, Kakashi gave her a long, hard look, wavering, as he always did, on the line between asking and not, and it bothered her. Not only did he look at her like he knew her well, despite her only having met him a couple weeks ago, judging by the way his eyes wandered across her to study her facial expression and body language, he _did_ know her well. He completely held the upper hand in their friendship, as she knew next to nothing about how to predict his actions, reactions, and thoughts.

She appreciated, too, that looking through the lense of power struggles to interpret friendship was a weird way to look at them, but theirs was a weird situation. Unlike Jiraiya, she could not look at and treat Kakashi like Sakumo nor did she want to, as she felt like Kakashi would not appreciate it. From Kakashi's retelling, it seemed like he had barely talked to Jiraiya in his previous lifetime, while she and Kakashi talked often and in a way that others couldn't understand.

She didn't like that he knew her as well as he did, but she did, all at the same time. In the opposite camp, it was nice to have someone who already understood her without her having to explain herself or anything else. The easiness was why, still, she preferred to talk to him more so than any of their other company.

"I'm not ready," was all she could think to say about it, both to save him the trouble of asking and to assure him that, one day, she _would_ be ready, and that she wasn't thinking about bolting—mostly. "Not yet."

"C'mon, then," he said, rolling off his bunk and searching for his shoes. "Let's go grab lunch and find the others. God knows what Jiraiya has them doing."

* * *

 

Just as Jiraiya hoped, the three kids in the frog costumes were adorable.

Sitting on the floor of the training room, neither Shizune nor Tenzō were pleased with their predicament. Unable to fit inside the costume, Shizune settled for only wearing the hood and letting the rest of it dangle behind her like a cape. She was already embarrassed enough that Kakashi got to pretend to be an adult while she couldn't, despite him being younger than her. If he caught her in this, she felt like she might die of humiliation. Tenzō, as a malnourished nine-year-old, fit into the costume just fine, but he wasn't sure he liked being inside the encompassing garment and wasn't sure of its purpose regardless.

On the other hand, Kabuto, with all the enthusiasm of a five-year-old, was thrilled.

"Ninja lesson number two," said Jiraiya, "Before you can learn how to use ninjutsu, you must learn how to control your chakra. Without that mastery, your jutsu will be unstable and you will tire too easily. But, with it, you will be able to perfect your favored ninjutsu, create illusions with genjutsu, and even—" He took a few steps up the nearest wall so his body was parallel with the ground. "—walk on walls."

"Whoa," said Tenzō and Kabuto in unison.

"So, for today's lesson," said Jiraiya, stepping back down. "You must channel your inner frog, stick to the walls, and run all the way up to the ceiling." He turned towards the girl who was half glaring at him and half trying to respectfully pretend that she wasn't. "Shizune, why don't you show them how it's done?"

Pulling her hood down far enough that she was certain it wouldn't fall off, Shizune walked up the back wall with ease, touched the ceiling, and, just as smoothly, walked back down.

"Now, it's your turn," said Jiraiya to the boys, and they go to their feet. "Pool your chakra into your feet and extend it into the wall as you climb." He crouched down so he was closer to their level and stretched out his arms in a dramatic "ta-da" gesture. "Ready?"

"Ready," they confirmed.

"Then, on your mark—" Looking at one another, the boys narrowed their eyes, silently entering into a challenge. "—get set—" In focus, they both turned back towards the wall. "—go!"

The two gave a war cry that, in their tiny voices, sounded more like a long, chaotic scream, and they sprinted towards the wall. Not only did Tenzō not stick to it, he kicked the wall so hard when he first made contact that it sent him flying backwards over a meter, and he had to flail his arms behind him so that his head wouldn't make forceful contact with the floor. Kabuto's first step managed to stick, but the second did not, and he was so focused on running up the wall that, in his inexperience, he did not brace himself for the fall back down and landed flat on his back.

"Good try," said Jiraiya, as Shizune burst into a fit of giggles. The boys clamored back to their feet and retook their place. "But, you're focusing too much on _force_ to get up the wall. Think like a frog; you should stick not sprint. Your chakra and the energies in the wall should merge together."

With the same war cry, the boys ran back at the wall, their only success this time being that they fell more gracefully.

Taking pity on her, Jiraiya did not make Shizune do chakra control exercises, as there was nothing he could teach her about chakra control that Tsunade hadn't and then some. Instead, as Kabuto and Tenzō continued to try and touch the ceiling, they worked on various jutsus. Jiraiya assessed what she was currently capable of and what she had the potential to do, until Kakashi and Tsunade appeared in the doorway, the latter looking between the three kids incredulously.

"What the fuck are they wearing?"

* * *

 

Still exhausted from their late night before, Tsunade collapsed into sleep the moment they retired for the evening, leaving Kakashi without a sparring partner. Though Tsunade healed his arm enough that he no longer needed a sling, it still wasn't at one-hundred-percent, so he was content to go alone. However, Jiraiya, still curious about him, offered to be his sparring partner instead.

"This feels less fair than Tsunade," said Kakashi, smiling despite it, as they stood opposite in the training room.

"Scared?" asked Jiraiya.

"Smart."

Their conversation died there. Though they had developed a penchant for bantering with one another a few weeks ago, since they arrived in the Rain, they quickly ran out of things to say to one another without _her_ somewhere in the middle (though, it was not as if she would allow Jiraiya to speak to her one-on-one, either). Jiraiya wanted to convince himself that their conversational deficit was just caused by a lack of things to talk about in general, as they were trapped in an underground bunker. But, conversations flowed just fine when there were more people involved, and there was a lot Jiraiya theoretically wanted to talk to Kakashi about, and Kakashi and Tsunade were talking at least _some_.

So, if he was being honest with himself, he was, in a weird way, jealous of Kakashi—at least, of Kakashi's relationship with Tsunade. Jiraiya had known Tsunade for _thirty-two years_ , even if she had been gone for ten of them, and she was barely acknowledging his existence. Meanwhile, Kakashi swooped in a few weeks ago, convinced her to come out of retirement, something that _no one_ had managed, and became her favored conversation partner. Time travel, was, logically, a sound explanation for those things, but, emotionally, it did not make him feel any better about Kakashi being able to do what he could not.

"Ready, then?" asked Kakashi, when the silence lingered too long. Jiraiya nodded.

He sparred with Kakashi in a similar, observing way that he sparred with Shizune, though it was less of a teaching exercise, and he was far more willing to kick Kakashi's ass. It wasn't properly a challenge, particularly since Kakashi could barely use one of his arms, but he _was_ a good ninja, and if they were in an environment where Kakashi could have found cover, the fight would have been a lot meaner. Even in the empty training room, there were moments where Kakashi seemed to blink out of existence entirely before throwing a sneak attack Jiraiya's way. However, his biggest hindrance was Kakashi’s unfamiliarity with his new body. There were several moments he stumbled, thinking that he could do something he could not, and he clearly tired far faster than he was intending.

In the back of his mind, Jiraiya had several questions he wanted to ask Kakashi. Kakashi was fairly reserved and only shared personal information or stories if he thought he had to, hence the time travel conversation and whatever the hell he told Tsunade afterwards, and then not a peep since. So, he knew any inquiries would have to be seldom, strategic, and subtle if he hoped to extract information from the guy who was _just_ a little too good at mind games. Jiraiya wanted to hear more about Naruto, about how the Third and Fourth Ninja World Wars affected the politics, economics, and social culture of the world, about his books so that knowing about their existence ahead of time wouldn't cause him to fuck them up, about the microdetails of the next twenty-four years so he could paint a better picture of the world in his mind.

But, instead of asking about any of those things, he asked the one question he felt stupidest for having and even stupider for going to Kakashi for the answer, because he really _ought_ to have known.

"Is she avoiding me?"

Kakashi gave him a long, hard look, which he suspected was less to search for anything in his demeanor (because, what didn't Kakashi know at this point?) and more to buy himself time to think of something to say. "Probably."

It was the answer Jiraiya had been expecting and bracing himself for, but that didn't make it anymore welcome. Sensing his crestfallenness, Kakashi added, "She's not ready to talk, yet. Give her time. She'll come around."

Somehow, that made it worse. Though it was uncanny that Kakashi knew so much about him, even when he knew so little about Kakashi as a person beyond his actions in his retelling, it did not bother him nearly as much as the fact that Kakashi knew so much about Tsunade. It all but confirmed the other suspicion Jiraiya had—that even though she was dodging Jiraiya's attempts to talk, she was actively confiding in Kakashi.

He was being foolish for caring in the first place, because she did not _owe_ him anything. And, it was petty and more than a bit cruel to take out something on a man who'd lost everything and, unless he was just actively shit-talking Jiraiya behind his back, wasn't even at fault. However, neither of those things stopped Jiraiya from being a little less merciful during their sparring session as he should have been.

* * *

 

"Ninja lesson number two," said Tsunade. "Anatomy and injuries."

Once again convinced to be the test subject for a lesson, Kakashi, beaten from the night before, was lying rather pitifully on the training room floor, face-down and with his shirt off, displaying an impressive collection of wounds. The two boys sat crisscross by his side, each holding a chart with labeled parts of the body that was drawn by Tsunade, and their teacher for the day sat on the other side of him, her knees drawn lazily to her chest. As Shizune was too advanced for a basic medical lesson, Jiraiya continued their jutsu practice at the other end of the room.

"Depending on the part of the body," continued Tsunade. "Injuries are treated differently. For example, when Yoshiki's shoulder broke, we put it in a sling until we could heal it, but if I were to break his leg—"

"Please don't," said Kakashi.

"—we would put it in a cast, instead."

"What if we don't want to be medical ninja?" asked Tenzō, not taking his eyes off the chart.

"It's important to memorize the parts of the body and their treatments, regardless. Some injuries are more dire than others, and you need to learn how to stabilize your allies until qualified personnel can reach you. Basic medical training can be life or death for your teammates."

Still not making eye contact with her, Tenzō's face grew pale.

"Are you squeamish or something?" asked Tsunade, wondering if they had overlooked some other trauma from the lab.

"No," he said, his voice sharp with the sullenness of a nine-year-old, but it wavered as he said it.

"Good." His reaction still struck her as odd, but for the sake of the lesson, she was content to put it aside for the moment. "We'll start simple. To help you memorize the chart, I'm going to point out some of his injuries, and the two of you are going to use it to tell me what muscle they're on. Jun, you start; identify the location of the bruising on his back."

Either too young or too blind to have perfect spatial reasoning, Kabuto stood up, placed the chart by Kakashi's head, and gently poked his injury. Then, with his other hand, Kabuto traced the body in the diagram so that it landed on the same spot as Kakashi's bruises.

"Rhombus!" he said excitedly.

"Rhom _boid_ , but close," said Tsunade, though it was enough of a success for Kabuto. His grin grew even wider as he took back his place by Tenzō. "Now, Dai, the cuts by his shoulder."

The paleness in his face only growing worse, Tenzō darted his eyes back and forth between Kakashi and his chart several times, before sneaking a glance at her, and, when they made eye contact, turning back towards Kakashi. At first, Tsunade wondered if he was afraid to guess the wrong thing, put off by the volatile and unpredictable nature of the adults in his life (after all, they did keep randomly beating the shit out of one another). After a few moments of watching him, however, it struck Tsunade that she might have neglected to check for an important prerequisite for this lesson.

"Dai," she said, lowering her voice, as the question was not in line with their cover. "Do you know how to read?"

Shifting ever so slightly, Kakashi tilted his head out of the nest he created with his arms, to see Tenzō in his peripheral vision. Shizune appeared to not have noticed the question, but Jiraiya _did_ , subtly flickering his eyes over towards them in time to see Tenzō shake his head. None of the adults were bewildered by the revelation, as Tenzō spent the first chunk of his childhood stuck in a tree with a clan who would die if they left, so education probably wasn't their top priority, and the rest of his childhood stuck in a test tube, but it did catch them off guard.

"We'll just add it to ninja lessons, then," said Kakashi quickly, but with his usual, laid-back tone that had an impressive ability to make things sound like weren't a big deal. "Maybe your uncle's poetry will finally be good for something."

Jiraiya shot Kakashi a half-hearted glare that did not linger long, instead wandering up to meet Tsunade’s gaze and staying far longer than she would have liked. Even when she turned back towards Kabuto, a gesture she did not want to seem pointed but knew it must have, she felt his eyes hover a few moments more, before he refocused on Shizune. They would have to talk eventually, she knew, but that was a can of worms she was not yet prepared to deal with.

* * *

 

Though he had always been a man with infamous regrets, Kakashi was, these days, struggling to be a man with anything else.

Over the last few weeks, Kakashi had tried to block all thought from his mind to keep his sanity. He was stuck in a game of trying not to think about time travel; trying not to think about _his_ Konoha; trying not to think about Team Seven; trying not to think about Kaguya; trying to not think about the fact that he now had legal guardianship over two kids, one of whom was Kabuto; trying not to think about the fact that they were temporarily living with the Akatsuki.

Today, the game was called "try not to think about the fact that you're fighting the guy who killed you, whom you were pretty content to know was dead," and he was losing. Every single life choice that lead to this moment was almost certainly a mistake, and even though it was a simple sparring session that bordered on a lesson, trying to suppress his flight-or-fight instinct to remain composed felt like challenging a mountain to a wrestling match.

He wouldn't run—couldn't—but going south, changing his name, and living the rest of his days on an island somewhere was starting to sound really appealing.

"So," said Kakashi, doing his best to ignore how nauseous he felt as he and Nagato stood on opposite ends of the training room. Just beyond the doorway, Tsunade and Konan were sitting on the floor, chatting quietly, and keeping watch on the happenings outside. "Let's see what you can do."

Nagato tucked his bangs behind his ear so that the right side of his face and the Rinnegan it contained were visible.

_Don't think about dying. Don't think about Sasuke. Don't think about Madara. Don't think about Kaguya._

Of all his sparring partners, Nagato was ironically his most courteous. If anything, he was a little _too_ reserved in his fighting, still unsure of the power his Rinnegan held and not wanting to overdo it—not that, for obvious reasons, Kakashi minded it. However, nearly two decades of Sharingan use taught him that correlating less dōjutsu use with less harm displayed a fundamental lack of understanding of the power possessed. The teacher in him won over.

"Your eyes aren't a weapon," said Kakashi. "The Rinnegan should be the tool that you use to wield the weapons at your disposal. You're treating your eyes like a sword instead of an arm."

"What do you mean?" asked Nagato.

"Say I'm wielding two kunai," said Kakashi, drawing two from his belt. "In a fight, both of my arms have to be on the offensive, but they have to be other things, too. They have to block enemy attacks. They have to steady me, if I lose my balance, or help me navigate through my environment, should the need arise. They have to be prepared to move from the kunai to another weapon or jutsu. I can hope my skill with a kunai is good enough that I won't need any of those things, but one day I might find that I'm not the most powerful person on a battlefield."

"So, I use too much offensive?"

"No," said Kakashi. "Just not enough of the others. You were given powers of observation that most people could never dream of, so use them. You were given unique jutsu that can be used to defend yourself, so you don't _have_ to go on the offensive as much. And, most importantly, you need to learn to attack, defend, and observe all the same time."

Though Yahiko was harder to predict than Nagato, Kakashi _understood_ him far better. People like Yahiko were not common by any stretch of the imagination, but they weren't unheard of, either. Villages and civilizations were usually founded by Yahiko's—people with grand-scale visions and the charm, eloquence, confidence, and intellect to pull it off. Minato was one of those people—though of the humbler variety—as was Danzō—though of the eviler variety. In a less complicated life, Sasuke might have been. Though they were never ordinary and could easily border on a God-complex, they were, at their heart, people with comprehensible goals who could look at the big picture and see which pieces of the puzzle to move to accomplish them.

On the other end of the spectrum, there were people like Sasuke turned out to be, like Orochimaru, like Madara—a type that was deceptively similar to the other but altogether quite the opposite. Though still frighteningly intelligent and charismatic, Sasuke's were more manic than they were rational, thrived on escalation instead of expansion, cared more about the grand-scale than the vision, and had no problems trimming down the word "God-complex" into just "God."

However, Kakashi could wrap his head around those people, too. As warped as it could often be, there was still a goal at the center of their sights. It ranged from difficult to impossible to determine how they intended to achieve that, but there was still a motive, a want, a fear, a trauma, a _something_ that set off the crux of their problem. They could not always answer the question "why are you doing this?" _rationally_ , but "why not" was an answer all the same.

(There was, of course, always the chance he had just spent too much time around murderous Uchihas to not be used to the experience. Even outside of himself, though, there was no one who could sit down and talk to Sasuke for more than a couple minutes, without, upon being asked about the experience later, nodding and answering, "yeah, I can see him trying to take over the world a few times." Even now, though Kakashi _was_ convinced he was committed to non-evil and going to do right by Sakura, there were times it was very apparent that Sasuke's rationality and morality came exclusively from mirroring and taking cues from Naruto and Sakura, instead of an actual sense of inner stability.)

As Pain, Nagato dabbled in Sasuke-dom, but good Nagato fell into neither of those categories. He was kind, quiet—shy, even—and despite his ruby hair and violet eyes, he was half as likely as Yahiko to stand out in a crowd. Nagato was the sort of person you expected to see as your neighbor instead of as your village leader.

Yet, hiding beneath that, even now, with a sane mind, he had the arrogance to consider himself a God, and Kakashi neither understood nor knew how to reason with him.

Still, while Kakashi did not trust Nagato in the slightest, he _did_ trust Naruto, and Naruto found good in him. Naruto found a good in Nagato that he felt was worth redeeming, a good that could be lasting, and though Kakashi loathed Nagato, he owed it to Naruto to teach him and point him in the right direction.

"Here," said Kakashi, sensing Nagato still wasn't getting it. He walked over to their med-kit in the corner, pulled out some gauze, and tossed it to him. "Blindfold yourself."

That earned him a weird look from Nagato, Konan, _and_ Tsunade, ranging from confusion to distrust to mild wondering if he was just going to assassinate Nagato and be done with it respectfully.

"You use your eyes as a crutch," explained Kakashi. "To avoid learning the fundamentals of being a ninja. So, you have to learn to fight without them. No weapons, no jutsu, just your other senses and hand-to-hand combat. Once you've learned, you'll be able to use your eyes like you should."

Nagato and Konan exchanged a brief look. He, once again, both reassured her and asked her permission. After a few moments of thought, she shrugged, and so he shrugged and wrapped the gauze around his eyes.

"There are many different senses you should learn to use as a ninja," said Kakashi, slowly circling around him. "Hearing. Sensing. Smelling. Feeling. Instinct. If you want to succeed at this exercise, you'll have to learn which combinations to use to figure out where I am. One, two, and—"

As soon as the word "three" escaped his lips, Kakashi kicked Nagato's ankles out from underneath him with a low, sweeping kick. Nagato was none-the-wiser until it was too late, and he was already falling. If nothing else, Kakashi was good at remaining undetected, something he planned to liberally use here.

"You're still trying to use your eyes," said Kakashi. "I can see you squinting. Now, again—"

Later, Kakashi awoke in a pile of rubble, narrowly missed by a massive crevice, and he jolted into an upright position. A few wooden beams were nearly on top of him, barely holding up a wall or roof from completely crushing him, and he pulled a kunai and searched around frantically to see if he could escape. There were bodies next to him, completely still and covered under collapsed wood, too. He wondered if the fight was over; thinking back to the blood-thirsty eyes, he wondered if they lost.

Blinking a few more times, he realized that he was not buried under anything, just staring at the intact paneling of an upper bunk, and the bodies were the sleeping forms of Tsunade's and Jiraiya's disguises, alive and unharmed.

He was used to nightmares and thought he'd learned to not dwell on them. However, he was not sure if he was relieved to not have woken up in a pile of dust in a leveled village or grief-stricken that he hadn't, so he could be back there with them. The thought disturbed him so greatly that he felt like he _was_ being smothered, his heart beating so fast that his chest ached and his stomach felt ill, and he had to immediately throw on his shoes and leave the bedroom to get some fresh air.

Tsunade pretended not to have noticed.

* * *

 

"Ninja lesson number four," said Kakashi. "Weapons."

Both kids lined up parallel to the long wall in the sparring room and were armed with one of Kakashi's kunai. Tenzō and Kabuto looked eagerly at the target in front of them, the latter doing a weird, wiggling dance of impatience. This was the first time they got to do something that involved actual _fighting_ , as opposed to their previous knowledge lessons, which made Tenzō feel grown up enough to return his spirits from yesterday. Kabuto, of course, was just unconditionally excited about everything.

Sensing Shizune's growing resentment of being treated like a child in comparison to Kakashi, Tsunade did _not_ subject her to Kakashi's basic lesson on kunai throwing, instead sparring with her on the other side of the room. Out of the way of both lessons, Jiraiya sat in a corner with several pieces of paper scattered around him, taking the time to write out children's stories for Tenzō to read. They were probably more elaborate and thoughtful than was necessary, but if Jiraiya was to soon publish a new book series, he needed to keep in the habit of writing often. Besides, if he was going to teach the kid to read, he might as well teach him in style.

"For now," said Kakashi. "Don't worry about form. First, you have to learn how to get the kunai to stick in the target, and that's something you have to figure out on your own. Once you start hitting the target consistently, we'll work on technique. Clear?"

The boys nodded. "Then, on your mark," said Kakashi. "Get set…go."

With the same war cry they gave in their chakra control lesson, Tenzō and Kabuto threw their kunai at the target and wildly missed.

"You know, screaming doesn't make your abilities any better," said Kakashi, as they collected their weapons and repositioned themselves. "If you scream every time you do something on a real mission, your enemies will always know where you are."

"Should we croak instead?" asked Kabuto. "Uncle Raiden said being like a frog would help us."

Jiraiya burst into laughter, and Kakashi struggled to not roll his eyes. "I would rather you scream," said Kakashi.

The lesson was an absolute disaster—an adorable disaster, but a disaster all the same. Probably from wearing glasses that didn't match the prescription he needed, Kabuto's depth perception was atrocious, and after an hour, he only got within a meter of the target _once_. Though Tenzō's vision was fine, he was too weak to reliably throw the kunai the way he wanted to, due to muscle wasting from his time in the test tube. Kabuto, even as a scrawny five-year-old, easily had double the strength. Tsunade was not too worried about it, almost certain it was caused by lack of proper nutrients and exercise instead of a disease process, which meant that a good diet and consistent workouts would bring him steadily back to normal.

Even though they were failing miserably and knew it, they didn't let it dissuade them, both determined to outdo the other. Kakashi didn't know whether they were trying to impress the adults, Shizune, one another, or themselves, but each time they lined up, they looked intently but amicably at one another in a silent challenge before whipping back towards the target and giving it their best. If nothing else, he was glad they were getting along, because while they would soon leave the cramped quarters in the Rain, the three of them were still going to cram into a one-bedroom apartment.

They were too awful to benefit from any criticism of skill, their only hope of improvement some addressing of their medical problems, so Kakashi was given the time for his thoughts to unwelcomely wander. Though they were different, _so_ different, it was easy for his mind to make comparisons to the last time he had students to teach, of a certain rivalry that motivated them to get better. Students that were laughably mediocre for what they would one day evolve to be.

_Back when we were little and stupid, and you couldn't stand any of us._

He wanted to pretend like he didn't know why he kept hearing Sakura's voice specifically instead of Naruto's or Sasuke's. But, deep down, he knew why; he was the most protective of her.

It wasn't like he wasn't protective of the other two. Without hesitation, he would die to save any of them, and nor did he think that Sakura couldn't handle herself. After all, she had saved him as much as he had her. But, Sakura still ranked uniquely number one on that list. Maybe it was because she was a girl. Maybe it was because, despite her vulnerable nature and the heart she wore on her sleeve, despite that she loved too openly and too deeply, her desire to save people was so strong that she was willing to dive into trouble minds to push the darkness out, even if it meant inflicting harm on herself. Maybe it was because love had not been kind to her, and for so long she waited on a man whom she had no idea when he would return to her.

For whatever reason, he felt a constant want to protect her, and that's why her voice was the one haunting him. He had failed her, because he was almost one-hundred percent certain the three of them were dead.

Realistically, Naruto's and Sasuke's consciousness had no body to return to. Sakura was technically already conceived when he went back in time, but her brain was not yet developed to retain memories, and every bit of her that managed to come back along with him would have died in an instant.

Kakashi shook himself out of it. He couldn't think about it, about them. Not yet. Right then, his number one priority was to make it through their stay in the Rain. So, he stopped the boys' weapons practice and had them run up the wall again, just to give his mind something to do.

_I suppose it was always meant to be the four of us, even now, at the very end._

He wished it had.

* * *

 

It was a brave thing to be vulnerable, and Tsunade had not been brave for a very long time. It was easy—easier, anyway—to run, to pretend there was not things and people and _love_ she left behind. When she walked away from the village for the last time, she put on a mask of indifference and drowned all that seeped through with gambling, alcohol, and nomadicy. For her, love became synonymous with pain, and if she did not love, she would not feel pain.

But, she did love. No matter how far she had strayed from Konoha, no matter how long she had tried to convince herself of the delusion, the truth was ever present in the back of her mind. She did not remain on the road because she had given up love; she remained on the road because she hadn't. If she could have shrugged off love like an oversized coat, she could have stayed in medicine, the trauma meaning nothing to her. But, she _did_ love, and love meant blood, so blood meant pain. The one thing that made her worth something in Konoha was the one thing that love would not let her do.

So, she thought, anyway—or, at least, so she liked to pretend. Then came along Kakashi and the future and _her_ future. A future where she was back to practicing medicine. Where she was happy. Where she helped save the world.

It was always love, it seemed, with her. Whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not, there were people she left behind in Konoha who she loved and who loved her: her old team, though her feelings were very rocky about two of them at the moment, and Biwako. Little Kushina, though not so little anymore, her sole surviving Uzumaki cousin. InoShikaCho, the only genin team that she'd ever been given (only for a couple years, because eventually her skills as a medical ninja were too great for the Third to allow her to do anything else, but long enough that they remained close until she left the village). Countless friends. Hospital staff.

If she did nothing and remained on the road forever, all of those people—at least, those lucky enough to survive until then—were going to be mindless soldiers in an army for a mad god. Including, perhaps most terrifyingly, Shizune. For them, she had to find it in herself to be brave.

"Let's spar using weapons, tonight," she said, as she and Kakashi entered the training room once again. "Keep on theme."

If he noticed her nervousness, he didn't react to it, but she knew he must, particularly after they'd started fighting. She was uncharacteristically unaggressive, dodging more than she lunged, and distracted. Nothing they were doing came close to drowning out her constant awareness that they were swinging sharp objects near skin—what it could mean.

At one point, she was so focused on _not_ hitting Kakashi that she failed to dodge something she should have and that Kakashi expected her to. He was aiming for her arm not her skull, and there was no real force behind it, so the cut across her cheek was shallow. But, it was not shallow enough.

"Sorry," he said, his tone nonchalant and indifferent, as if he was completely unaware that she happened to have a crippling phobia of blood. But, she knew it was for her benefit, because he created a small ball of water in his hand and pressed it against her cheek to prevent the blood from dripping down her face. "I don't know if I've told you this before, but your reflexes are terrible."

"It's lucky for you, if you think about it," she said, glaring at him in irritation, though it was mostly in performance. Inwardly, she was trying to slow her heart rate and the sudden feeling of dizziness, knowing the thing that would break her was so close, and it would only take a drop. Sliding her hand between his hand and her face, she started to heal the cut. "It's about the only thing you've going for you."

"I dunno. I've been told I'm pretty good at tennis."

He did her the favor of not looking at her as she fixed the scratch, pretending to be interested in something across the room, giving her as much privacy as one person could give another standing only fifteen centimeters in front of them. But, she knew that, with his peripheral vision, he was watching her regardless. Though she knew he didn't think less of her for it nor begrudged her for the slow pace she was moving along, it was still embarrassing to feel so weak—so vulnerable. She hated having to rely on someone to get by.

"Should be done," she said, after about a minute, removing her hand, and he dispelled the sphere.

"May I?" he asked, after examining her face for a moment, hovering his thumb where the water had been, evidently finding something. She nodded, and he gently wiped off whatever remained. "Alright, you're good."

"You said life gets better if you let it," said Tsunade, before they could resume. "So, how do you let it?"

"My… _medic_ did not share all the details of her research with me," said Kakashi. "Nor would I have understood them if she had. But, from what I remember for things like this, the best thing is repeated exposure. In a controlled environment, start introducing it in small quantities to desensitize yourself to it."

"And if I can't fix myself," said Tsunade. "How is this supposed to work, then?"

Giving her a hard look, her leaned in close to her once more and lowered his voice. "Are you the greatest goddamn medical ninja in the world?" he asked. "Or are you not?"

It irritated her that he knew, with absolute certainty, the answer to that question, and as a byproduct, so did she. So, she resumed their sparring without a verbal warning, instead letting him know by swinging her kunai at his arm, and he grinned.

* * *

 

Their seventh night in the Rain, Tenzō woke up screaming.

It was hard to say which of the adults was awake first, differing only by milliseconds, but they were all more prepared than last time. By the time Shizune and Kabuto had a chance to wake up, Jiraiya and Kakashi were already shushing them, and Tsunade had her watch ready.

"Three thirty-eight," she said. She and Kakashi had only been in bed for twenty minutes, and she ran her hand through her hair to try and shake off the deliriousness of being woken so early in a sleep cycle. "We need to start waking him up around three twenty and keeping him awake for fifteen minutes. It might…it might help."

For five minutes, they watched his tiny, terrified form look around wildly without seeing, his arms and legs stiff and unmoving as if invisible binds were holding him to the bed.

"Cramped. Cramped. Cramped."

(There Lived a Certain Man)

For the kids, their second week in the Rain somehow passed both slower and faster than their first. On one hand, they had not seen sunshine in any capacity for a while, and cabin fever was beginning to kick in. On the other, they were growing used to one another's and the rest of the Akatsuki's company, and conversation flowed easier and more frequently because of it. They fell into a routine of ninja lessons and, in Tenzō's case, reading lessons that helped to ease the restlessness. Shizune, in particular, was grateful for the influx of training, especially when it came from Tsunade, who, before now, had been so hesitant to engage her directly.

However, Kakashi and Jiraiya had taken to jumping out of nowhere and knocking the kids over while yelling "sneak attack," for which Shizune was significantly less grateful. They claimed it was to improve their passive perception and reflexes, though the kids speculated it had far more to do with the fact that everyone found it hilarious to see them give a surprised squawk and flail to the ground.

Kakashi, thus far, had been impossible to detect until they were already falling, even though Shizune suspected, from the way the adults talked, he was going easy on them. Once, though, Shizune did notice Jiraiya. She didn't succeed in doing anything about it, but she noticeably tried to dodge, which made Jiraiya, after he helped her to her feet, smile, clap her on the back, and say "atta girl." Even though she didn't want to be, she was secretly pleased that he was proud of her.

The week closed with a meeting, but like last time, the adults still didn't let them attend. Shizune tried not to be bothered, like she had so often over the last couple of weeks, that Kakashi, though he was younger than her, got to attend these secret meetings. For the most part, she still had no idea where they were or who they were with, even though Kakashi was completely in the know. So, when Tenzō asked, once the adults were gone:

"What do you think they're talking about?"

She answered:

"Want to go find out?"

In the interest of being sneaky, she wished she didn't have to bring Kabuto and Tenzō with her to go spy, but she understood the wisdom in keeping together. Coaching them in keeping their footfalls quiet, Shizune made her way towards the mess hall with the boys following her like ducklings. She didn't dare try and approach the doorway to peek inside, but they did find a hidden place down the hallway where the voices inside were still audible.

They missed whatever introduction the meeting had, but for a long while, the meeting consisted of nothing but the relaying of news, and Shizune had to quietly explain to the boys what everything meant. The Lightning Village had backed out of combat, making a permanent armistice agreement with all sides. There was talk in the Rock of surrender, though there was talk in the Mist of refusing. The Sand was growing low on resources and getting desperate, and Konoha's Yellow Flash was still dominating the battle fields (Shizune did not know who this was, but she knew that she couldn't ask Tsunade without admitting she had listened in).

Overall, it was rather boring, and other than a brief leap of hope that the war might be coming to a close, Shizune was disappointed they risked discovery to listen to forty-five minutes of reports.

That was, until the end.

"It can be difficult to stay attentive during a war," she heard Yahiko say. "To listen on endlessly about death, famine, and destruction. Of the cruel byproducts of war that we know will linger on far longer than the fighting itself, poisoning the world to be weakened to further conflicts. We listen to these things and have to confront the fact that our world is broken.

"But, you are all here, still listening, still moving forward, because you know that we offer another way. We offer something that will save these shattered people. We must go to them, _show them_ the way of the peaceful righteous. With the strength and the knowledge and the conviction we have, we can end their suffering through our teachings. All of the death, the hardships, and the pain that brought all of us here together will be finished."

"My friends," he said, and there was a warm admiration in his voice that struck her, as if he were singly and personally saying these words to her. For a moment, she felt the intensity and the ardor in his voice like it was her own, and even though she barely understood what was happening, she was convicted by it. "My family, my comrades. Let us use the courage and the spirit I see in your hearts to inspire and bring about a new era to this world of ours. We _will_ rise as the dawn."

"We will rise as the dawn," everyone echoed, and there was a moving of chairs, signaling that the meeting had finished.

"C'mon," she said, picking up Kabuto and grabbing Tenzō by the hand to make their escape as quick as possible, before one of the Akatsuki or, worse, the other three members of their company noticed they had some eavesdroppers. Unnerved and confused by Yahiko and his words, listening in, somehow, only reinforced the question she had been asking this entire time.

Where _were_ they?

* * *

 

Two weeks marked the end of phase one of their plan, and Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Kakashi agreed that they were successful enough to move on to phase two—connecting Kakashi and Yahiko. The meeting gave him a good lead in to start a conversation, so he cornered Yahiko two hours after it ended, when he was sitting alone in the war room making plans.

"Hey," said Kakashi, peeking in. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," said Yahiko, gesturing towards a seat opposite him, and Kakashi took it.

"Your speech at the end was very moving," said Kakashi. "You're one hell of a speaker."

"It's hardly me," said Yahiko. "It's the truth of the message that brings out the words. I'm merely a vessel for it." Leaning back in his chair, Yahiko took a moment to examine Kakashi. "You're a curious one, you know. I can tell you're not like the others."

That gave Kakashi pause, enough to worry him. "What do you mean?"

"Up on the podium, you get a good look on everyone's faces. I mean every word I say up there. I do see so much heart in them. But, sometimes, I see a lot of uncertainty, in all of them. Not that I begrudge them; how could they not be on occasion, in a world that has beat them down so much as ours? In fact, I am glad for it sometimes, because I know that even with uncertainty, they are brave enough to stay.

"But, not you. You never need convincing. Your face tells me that you're already there."

Even though Yahiko was only eighteen, going up against him was strangely intimidating. His perceptiveness, like his speaking skills, were unlike anything he had ever seen, and it made even Kakashi feel like an unwillingly open book.

But, Kakashi could not so easily be outdone.

"Yes," said Kakashi. "I've been thinking a lot about peace and what peace looks like. I came in here to run something by you on that subject, actually."

"I'd love to hear it."

"Practically," said Kakashi, knowing he needed to find the perfect balance of laying it on thick. "It's a shame to have ninja villages with so much talent and have it wasted in wars amongst ourselves. Ninja should be there to stop that which can't be controlled, like criminals and rouge demons, not to destroy organized society. If there was harmony and cooperation, we could progress so much faster in things that benefit everyone: technology, medicine, mining, agriculture."

"I agree," said Yahiko, nodding.

"Treaties are useless," said Kakashi. "They're nothing more than a temporary ceasefire, lasting only until someone gets inevitably mad about something else and everyone decides to break them. What we need is an alliance—a union. One where each ninja village can elect representatives to discuss and resolve conflicts by way of democracy instead of violence. One that allows each country to have a voice."

He did not want to spill everything to Yahiko for two reasons. First, he wanted Yahiko to come to some of his own conclusions, creating the illusion that it was a collaborative effort partially born from the Akatsuki's doctrine. Second, he did not want to let him in on just how deeply he'd thought about it and how well put together it sounded.

"It would avoid help power struggles," said Yahiko. His demeanor of attentive listening dropped involuntarily as he began to think, _really_ think. "But, the big villages would object. They like to keep their power."

"It's why they would need to join first," said Kakashi. "Come together themselves to make such a thing happen and think that it was mostly their idea. The villages, not the individuals, are always going to hold the power. We just have to convince them to hold their power in the right way."

Still deep in thought, Yahiko silently rummaged around his notes for a large map of the world, which he laid out on the table. Taking what looked to be whittled-down chess pieces, Yahiko placed the tallest ones on the five major countries and the shortest ones on the minor countries between them. Then, he took small pieces of yarn and taped them between the major villages, studying the trajectories.

"Not like the others at all," said Yahiko, giving his attention back to Kakashi, and the charismatic smile returned. "I want to discuss this more, but I want to gather my thoughts first."

As he left, Kakashi had no idea that, along with the union plan, he had started another train of thoughts in Yahiko, one that the latter did not even tell Konan of yet. Even though the thoughts were almost antithetical to the Akatsuki's dogma, they bubbled beneath the surface all the same.

But, more on that later.

* * *

 

Their next talk occurred two weeks later, after the third meeting. Yahiko specifically sought out Kakashi afterwards and beckoned him back towards the war room.

"As promised," said Yahiko, once he shut the door behind them. "I've been thinking. Peace is more than just anti-war; it's anti-suffering, and all suffering contributes to the likelihood of war. When people suffer, they are motivated to change that suffering, and if they cannot change it via voice, they have to change it via violence to survive. A group like your alliance couldn't only focus their negotiations on not fighting. We need something that addresses the reasons of fighting.

"But, a handful of people cannot be expected to be experts on everything. A group like this would have to be split into committees, particularly if everyone is to be given a voice, because they have to be given a voice fairly and have the opportunity to put their experts forward. Committees to address all causes of war."

"A committee for each major aspect of human suffering," said Kakashi, and it was his turn to be deep in thought over the matter. Somehow (though he did have some prompting), with only two weeks of pondering, Yahiko was on his way to creating a more coherent plan for the union than they had in a year. It was both impressive and terrifying. "Committee's like those could help all of the villages thrive together. A food and agriculture committee could not only prevent starvation that leads to violent conflict, it could help everyone's farming techniques to grow, contributing to societal advancement."

Yahiko grabbed a piece of paper and began to write. "Okay, what are our main things? Food and agriculture—"

"Health," said Kakashi. "Technology."

"Education."

"Mission equality." Kakashi paused, putting on a show of acting like he'd just had a brand-new idea. "What if there was a system where you have this committee that divvies out missions? Instead of major missions going to individual villages, they go to this committee that then distributes them to the most qualified people from any nation. It removes the problem of particular villages getting missions based on reputation or economic status, instead of skill."

"That's going to even harder to get people to agree to," said Yahiko, though he didn't look opposed. "A lot of the big villages aren't going to like that."

"No," said Kakashi. "But they like war a lot less."

"You're right." Yahiko stared thoughtfully at the piece of paper in front of him for a few moments, before looking back up to Kakashi and grinning. "We have to be the solution."

* * *

 

" _We're close,"_ said Kakashi the ensuing night, after the meeting. The kids were out of the room, getting ready for bed, and it was only Jiraiya, Tsunade, and him. _"Get ready to go soon."_

As they were all gathered in the mess hall for lunch, his words still bothered Jiraiya. Though they had been with Tsunade for five weeks, she and Jiraiya were not any closer to settling their issues than they were at the start, and now the clock was ticking even faster. So, he decided he was finished waiting on her.

"Can we talk?" he asked, lowering his voice and leaning in close to her once everyone was distracted by something Yahiko was saying.

Her lips pressed into a flat line, she did not make eye contact with him, and she looked like she was in on the verge of arguing. But, he knew she was not an idiot; she must have been acutely aware of the need for them to discuss what they were going to do once they got back to Konoha. They had no plans for how they wanted the next couple of months to play out nor an agreed strategy for how they were going to interact with everyone, and because of that, they hadn't clued Kakashi into any of those things, even though he needed to know, too.

So, even though he knew she wanted to argue, she did not. Instead, she wordlessly walked away back towards the room, which he took as agreement.

Subtly getting Kakashi's attention, Jiraiya made a complicated gesture involving a few eye movements, a couple sweeps of his hands, and a jerk of his head in Tsunade's direction, which he hoped conveyed something along the lines of "we're going to go talk, please watch the kids." Though Kakashi looked amused, it appeared to have worked, because he nodded. None of the others batted an eye at their leaving, even the ones who noticed, because a married couple spending some time alone was hardly suspicious.

"What would you like to talk about, Jiraiya?" she asked angrily, once he closed the door, leaning against the post of the middle bunk in a huff. "The fact that our best friend is committing horrendous crimes against humanity? The fact that we have to listen to the terrified screams of one of the kids he traumatized at night? The fact that the closest thing you or I ever had to a father has been turning a blind eye to repeated acts of treason? Or the fact that our dead friend's time-traveling son has recruited us to help stop a thousand-year-old goddess from using the moon to enslave humanity?"

Then, in a weird turn of events, she began to laugh. It came out in choking bursts, at first, but soon dissolved into full-blown cackling that caused her to have trouble staying standing. He looked at her like she'd lost her mind, certain she had.

"I'm sorry," she said, through giggles. "It's not funny at all. It's just, _the moon_. The goddamn mood is going to enslave us all."

Sorry as she was, she couldn't make the laughter stop—the manic sort that comes from not knowing what else _to_ do. Before he could restrain himself, he began to laugh, too. It wasn't as deranged as hers, only strangled guffaws that made his ribcage convulse, but it made him feel just as insane. She was right; none of this was funny in the slightest.

But, it was all so _ridiculous._ There were all these horrifying things, too many of them, and they were all stacked up on top of one another in one ridiculous, terrifying bundle that they had to confront at once. So, she laughed, and he laughed, even after they began to feel sick.

"And little Kabuto," she said, barely getting the words out. "Is going to commit _mass necromancy_."

"And don't forget Madara," said Jiraiya, struggling just as much. "Who is still alive and using a tree to clone the First Hokage into an army of mindless soldiers."

"God, and here I thought I had two grandfathers," said Tsunade. "Turns out I've got _thousands_."

After a few more moments, they were able to pull themselves together. They each took a few deep breaths to calm down and Tsunade wiped tears of laughter from her eyes.

"How are you doing?" she asked, furrowing her brow in concern.

Though he probably shouldn't have been surprised, he was. Not only was it a rich question from someone who had just had a brief lapse in sanity, he had not been sure, before this moment, that she even cared. It was probably a projection from the fact that the other relationships in his life were in shambles, but with her ignoring him this whole time, he was a little worried that the friend he'd once had in her was gone, too.

"About which?"

"Any of it," she said. "But, probably the two people we need to talk about most."

In preparation for this conversation, he had prepared a list of things he wanted to say over the last month, but in the moment, they were all escaping him. "I don't even know. You?"

"I'm angry," she admitted. "And hurt, and betrayed. I thought better of the two of them, and the minimum standards that I had should not have been hard to keep. It was a worst-case scenario that I didn't even know I needed to be prepared for."

"I feel like that can be said for all of this," said Jiraiya, and she laughed lightly, but her expression quickly turned serious.

"Did you know?" she asked. "Even a little?"

"No," said Jiraiya, and he wasn't sure if that made him seem better or worse. "Somehow, I had no fucking clue."

"Me, neither," she said. "I mean, Orochimaru was always harsh, and calculating, and clever, but not—how were we too stupid to miss something like this?"

He meant it when he told her that she wasn't a fool back in the hotel room, but all of this had lowered his opinion on both of their intelligences. If they weren't stupid, how _could_ they have missed it? Sure, Tsunade hadn't been around for several years, and Jiraiya himself hadn't had a proper conversation with Orochimaru in over a year, but stuff like this ran deeper than whims. Good men—and that is what Jiraiya once thought Orochimaru was, a good man—did not decide to, overnight, brutally experiment on and kill a large group of children.

Tenzō's screams and the visions of the lab echoed in his mind, and he wondered if there would ever again be a moment where he wasn't haunted by them.

All life gone from her, she sat miserably on the foot of her bed and tucker her legs underneath her, and he took a seat on the foot of his own bed beside her. It was jarring to see Tsunade look...not quite _old_ , but in this form, older than he had ever seen her, and the plainness of the disguise made her seem even older. There were lines on her face when she frowned, and there was nothing to distract from the weary look in her eyes.

"The Third thought that Orochimaru was going to be his replacement one day," he said. "That has to mean something."

"Hiruzen-sensei, as we're finding out, is a shitty judge of character," said Tsunade. "How much do you think he knows?"

"Probably more than we'd like," said Jiraiya. "I have no doubt that he doesn't know about Orochimaru in explicit details, but he knows somethings up. I think he's conveniently not asking certain questions for fear of what he might find."

"And Danzō?" asked Tsunade. "How much do you think he knows about him?"

"You heard Kakashi. You know the answer."

"This is so fucking stupid," she said, humorously half-laughing as she ran her fingers through her hair. "But even though 'disappointed in him' would be an understatement, I'm still somehow worried that Hiruzen-sensei is going to be disappointed in me." Deliberately not making eye contact, she picked at her bedsheet. "Do you think my return is going to be…unwanted?"

"The Third would kill to have you back." If life was not currently determined to be unbearably unfunny, he might have found it humorous—how little she knew about how fond he was of her. "And, I mean it."

She nodded, though with all that was going on, she couldn't feel properly relieved. "When did you start calling him 'the Third?'" she asked, still not making direct eye contact with him, but he could see her looking out of the corner of her eye.

He was not eager to spill his personal problems with the Third to her, particularly since they paled in relation to his new problems with him. However, if they were going to make all of this work, there needed to be openness between them—between all three of them, really, but Kakashi had done a good job of fulfilling his end of the bargain. How could he expect openness from her if he was not willing to give it?

"He and I haven't really talked in a long time," said Jiraiya. "Personally, I mean. Professionally, we're fine."

Looking back on it, he wished he hadn't argued so much. Though the Third was perfectly willing to fight, Jiraiya was more often than not the one who started it. Maybe if they hadn't spent so much time rowing with one another, they might have noticed Orochimaru before it was too late and a hall full of children were dead. Maybe the Third might have confided in Jiraiya more, and Jiraiya could have convinced him of _something—_

"Do you blame me?"

"What?" he asked, the question ripping him from his thoughts.

"For Hiruzen-sensei and Orochimaru," she said. "Do you blame me and the fact that I left?"

"No," he said, meaning it. "What the hell would you have done?"

"I don't know," she said, giving him a pointed look. "But, I can tell you're blaming yourself, and you actually bothered to stick around in Konoha, so I must be even higher on your 'people to blame' list."

He locked his jaw in place irritably. "Look—"

"No," she interrupted. " _You_ look. People can't fix other people, Jiraiya. They have to fix themselves. You couldn't fix me, and not because you're _you,_ but because _I_ wasn't ready to fix me. You can't fix Hiruzen-sensei, and you can't fix Orochimaru, because they don't _want_ to be fixed. All of the shit they've pulled is on them, not you."

" _He_ fixed you," said Jiraiya, almost involuntarily, the lingering piece of bitterness dislodging in the emotion of the moment.

"What are you talking about?"

"Kakashi," he said. "He managed to fix you."

"What?" asked Tsunade, standing up in outrage. "Is this why you've been a such a dick to him for the last month? Because you think he managed to fix me while you couldn't?"

"I haven't—"

"Don't bullshit me," she said. "Don't think I haven't noticed, and I'm sure he has, too. Though, he's had so much other shit to deal with, such as _losing the people he cares about most_ , that I'm guessing he hasn't said anything about it."

"Why the hell do you care about him so much?" asked Jiraiya, standing, too. The first droplets of shame were beginning to creep through his veins, but he ignored them.

"Why the hell _don't_ you?" she asked. "He's a _good man._ Do you want to know what he said to me, back at the hotel? Do you want to know what he said to make me come along? He told me that there was a future, that _I_ had a future, where I was home and practicing medicine again—" Tears began to brim in her eyes, and she had to pause and look away to gain control of herself, making Jiraiya _really_ start to feel like a dick. "—he told me that life could get better, if I would let it. But, _I_ had to let it. Not him, not you, _me_. The only thing he did was tell me that I was a friend, that he understood what I was going through, and that he would be there for me as I figured out what it meant to get better."

Almost physically wincing, Jiraiya kicked himself. Deep down, he knew it was stupid to begin with, but her saying everything aloud highlighted just how ridiculous he had been. He was pointlessly an asshole to someone whose only crime was helping Tsunade, in the same way that Jiraiya could have but instead just chose not to.

"You're right," he said. "I've been a dick."

She nodded. "You know, somehow, he still thinks very highly of you. And, not just professionally. I mean personally, despite your petty bullshit. Which makes this extra stupid, because I know _you_ think highly of _him_ , because if you didn't, you would have left already."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not me you need to apologize to."

"No, I mean, I'll apologize to him, too," said Jiraiya. "But, I'm also sorry to you. We've known one another for three decades, but I wasn't there for you. I admit, I don't fully understand—" He made an open-palmed, circling gesture around her head that made her raise an eyebrow. "— _what you're going through_ , but that's not an excuse."

Examining his expression critically, she said nothing, looking, like he had earlier, surprised that he cared. Then, she grinned, and he grinned, and they both realized that, despite their worries and the length of time that had passed, their old teammate was still in there somewhere.

"I’ve missed you," he said.

"I’ve missed you, too," she said, sitting back on the bed, and he followed. "If you tell anyone I said this, I'll kill you, but I’ve missed all of you."

"My lips are sealed," he said, and the grin faded. "About Kakashi, is he, you know, doing okay?"

"Would it kill the two of you to actually talk about things with one another?" He sent her a half-hearted glare, and she rolled her eyes. "He's dealing with everything well. Too well, actually."

"You think he's lying about something?"

She shook her head. "When…Dan died, I didn't decide to leave immediately. I didn't even think about it immediately. There's just so much you have do after those kinds of things. At first, I was busy with funeral arrangements, then busy with getting Shizune's adoption papers straightened out, then busy with sorting through his stuff and dealing with his house—" She looked down and fiddled with her bed sheet once again, and Jiraiya had a feeling she'd never told this to anyone before. "—but, eventually, that initial crunch time came to an end. Suddenly, I had a moment to think about things and that's when it all crashed down on top of me."

"You're worried this is crunch time," he guessed. "And that it's about to end."

"Yeah," she said. "I mean, he's not going to leave. That's not him. But, I don't know what _is_ him. He loved them more than he's ever loved anyone else, Jiraiya, and it worries me."

"Speaking of stupid," said Jiraiya. "Of all the things Kakashi told us that are going to happen, there's only one thing I can focus on, and it's not the apocalypse, the destruction of the village, or anything grand scale."

"Minato's and Kushina's deaths?"

He nodded. "It's all I think about. So, yes, I'm worried, too. But, we'll keep an eye on him, alright? He's been through a lot of weird shit before. Maybe he'll make it through just fine."

"Hopefully," she said, frowning. "Back to the topic at hand, so someone doesn't wonder why we've been gone for so long—"

"They won't," said Jiraiya, grinning. "Surely, I look like the kind of guy that can make it last longer than twenty minutes, don't I?" Though he should have known he would have to dodge a blow, he couldn't get out of the way in time, and her fist made contact with his shoulder. "Ow, fuck, sorry. You were saying?"

"Back to our _earlier_ conversation," she said, and that was enough to sober him up. "The way I see it, we need to ask ourselves two questions before we go back. First, can we forgive Hiruzen-sensei?"

"I can," said Jiraiya. Knowing how complicit he was in everything was a tough pill to swallow, but like Tsunade said, the Third was the closest thing either of them ever had to a father. They couldn't go back to the village and stay mad at one another forever. "But, I can't trust him. Not anymore."

Evidently agreeing, Tsunade nodded. "And the second," she said, and for the first time in all of this, her voice truly broke. "Are we going to kill Orochimaru?"

He wished, for both of their sakes, he could give her another answer. However, he could not sit there and condemn the Third's passiveness while doing the same thing.

"If it comes down to it," he said. "We have to, before he kills anybody else."

* * *

 

Jiraiya appreciated that the shower was a weird place to apologize, but it was the next time he and Kakashi were alone (except for Kabuto and Tenzō, who were in the communal shower with them), and it didn't involve the awkwardness of specifically asking Kakashi to talk to him one-on-one. Without warning, Jiraiya covered Tenzō's ears with his hands and looked at Kakashi expectantly. Raising an eyebrow, Kakashi hesitantly did the same to Kabuto's ears.

"I've been kind of a dick," Jiraiya whispered.

"Yeah,"

"I'm sorry about that."

Kakashi shrugged. "S'okay. I'm good to move on."

"Excellent," said Jiraiya, letting go of Tenzō's ears to clap Kakashi on the back.

Jiraiya went back to singing an old folk song from the Land of Lightning, making Kakashi wish someone would cover _his_ ears. However, he did smile, glad to know that, in the nick of time, Jiraiya and Tsunade had evidently worked out their issues, and whatever tenseness had developed between Jiraiya and Kakashi was gone.

* * *

 

Only six days after the previous one, an emergency meeting was called at nine in the evening. Yahiko did not even bother with an introductory speech.

"It's done," he said, nearly breathless from the enthusiasm. "The Leaf and the Rock have agreed to create a peace treaty, and everyone else has agreed to an armistice if they can keep it. As soon as pens touch paper, the war is officially over."

Kakashi thought that the news would be enough to make Yahiko too busy to chat, instead having to use his time to coordinate intel gatherers and make future plans. However, like he had the previous meeting, Yahiko beckoned him back into the war room.

"I can't talk long," said Yahiko, once the door was shut. "But I've been working on something I want to show you."

Yahiko pulled out a stack of paper from underneath one of his books and laid them out on the table to create a giant, hand-made map. Except, instead of just border lines and capitals, most of the countries contained a small list.

"I wrote out the strengths and weaknesses for all of them," said Yahiko. "The ones I know, anyway. If we were to recruit each country into this theoretical union, we would need to know what they could bring to the table and what the table could bring them, to adjust our pitch accordingly."

"It's impressive," said Kakashi, examining it, and he meant it. It spoke of the skill of the Akatsuki's intelligence gathering network that he knew all those things in the first place. "You missed a strength for the Wave, though. They're good at transportation technology."

"Really?" asked Yahiko, raising an eyebrow.

"I went there, once. Since they're not connected to anything and have trouble importing necessary items, like food, they've been gathering knowledge on it. They want to start planning the construction of a massive bridge that provides a travel-way to land. They're not very far, yet, but they're farther than anyone else."

"Interesting," said Yahiko, penciling it in. "That could be useful, down the line, if they ever finish it."

For the rest of the time that Yahiko could spare, Kakashi helped him flesh out the map further, and together they brainstormed countries or clusters of them that could directly benefit from trade with one another. By the time someone dragged Yahiko away, the map was a mess of sticky notes and fresh pen marks, and Kakashi got to leave the war room with three beautiful words on his mind.

_He bought it._

(Oh, Those Crazy Russians)

The kids were already asleep by the time Kakashi arrived back at the room, as it was nearing eleven, so he waited to break the news to Jiraiya and Tsunade in the morning.

"He bought it," said Kakashi, once the kids were out of the room and on their way to breakfast without them. "It's time to go home."

None of them were sure what to say, and a silence fell over them—not awkward, just uncertain. They were glad to go home, certainly, to be away from the cramped bunker and the weird, political cultists. However, they were all nervous of the unknown that home would bring them. Tsunade was expecting it, so it was easiest for her, but it was throwing off Jiraiya and Kakashi more than they wanted to admit.

"So, our plan," said Tsunade awkwardly. "How are we navigating the first couple weeks?"

"We have to make sure we all stay in the village until January," said Jiraiya. "We'll be no use in stopping Danzō if one of us gets called away for longer than expected. I can do whatever the hell I want to do, and Tsunade can do whatever the hell she wants to do—"

"I'll apply for personal leave," said Kakashi. "Since we're passing off Tenzō and Kabuto as my long-lost relatives, it won't even be suspicious. Ninja take time off all the time to take care of young kids and handle clan business." He frowned. "Speaking of, we can't put Tenzō in the Academy until after Danzō is taken care of. If he were to accidentally use wood style, it could ruin everything we've set up."

"I'll pretend to temporarily disqualify him for medical reasons," said Tsunade. "Say that there's some illness he needs to work through before he's physically ready for the academy. He still looks sickly. It'll be easy to pass off."

"We'll need to keep our heads down," said Jiraiya. "And keep the kids far away from Tsunade at first. She's going to cause a spectacle no matter what we do, and they can't afford to be in any sort of spotlight."

Sensing Tsunade's sudden discomfort and knowing that their return was a big deal for both of them, Kakashi asked, "Are you two ready?"

They couldn't lie to themselves or one another; it was weird. It was _very_ weird. Life in the Rain, while devoid of sunlight and normal people, had grown comfortable. The constant routine and the six of them crammed into their tiny barrack was an easy life to live, and they never had to directly acknowledge the clusterfuck that was waiting for them in their real lives. Once they stepped foot in the village, nothing would ever be the same.

"No," said Tsunade. She was terrified—of course, she was terrified. How could she not be? "But, I think I won't ever be."

"You're not thinking of running, are you?" asked Jiraiya, only half joking, both he and Kakashi terrified, in turn, that she wouldn't stay.

"No," she said again. "I've got the two of you."

The admission relieved and charmed them both.

"It will be bizarre," said Jiraiya. "But we're bizarre, frankly. If we can make _here_ work, of all places, we can make home work. As long as we bounce off one another, we'll be fine."

"Score one for the specialized team of the biggest fuck-ups on the planet," she said, with a lazy smile, still half-asleep.

"I still think it's still too long of a name," joked Kakashi.

"Hmm," said Jiraiya, making a show of thinking. "How about the Future Unit for Covert Keeping of Safety?"

"The FUCKS?" asked Tsunade. "How long have you been sitting on that one?"

"About a week." Sitting up to see over Tsunade, Jiraiya studied Kakashi for a moment. "Are _you_ ready?"

Like Jiraiya said, it would be bizarre. This Konoha was home, but it was not _his_ home, all at the same time. He had been back to this Konoha twice, but for no more than twenty-four hours each time, and even then, he was haunted by the shadows of _his_ Konoha etched into every inch of the village. But, he missed the openness, and he missed the trees, and he missed the skyline and all the buildings it contained.

"Yeah," he said. "Let's go home."

_Home, enough, anyway._

* * *

 

"Let me guess," said Yahiko, when Jiraiya caught Yahiko at a moment alone, entering the war room and shutting the door. "You're leaving?"

"How did you know?" asked Jiraiya, sitting down.

"I had a feeling you would when I announced the end of the war. I knew you'd want to be back in the village when it's made official and that the village would want you back then, too."

Jiraiya nodded. "We've decided to leave tomorrow."

"And your observations?" Like the last time he asked, there was a slip of vulnerability in his voice, despite his poise, like a child seeking approval from their parent. "What was your conclusion?"

Truthfully, the Akatsuki was whacked—a cult in every sense of the word—with a terrifyingly charismatic leader. But, it was an impressive cult, and Yahiko had turned into an impressive young adult, as had Nagato and Konan. Jiraiya couldn't help feeling pleased at how far they'd come. Jiraiya was still certain that, with a push in the right direction, which it seemed that Kakashi had given them, the Akatsuki could be force for good.

"A couple things," said Jiraiya. "First, I'm still really goddamn proud of you three. What you've created here is important. I can feel it."

"Well, as I said," said Yahiko, looking down at his notes, a slight blush to his cheeks but a smile on his face. "It's really all thanks to you."

"Yeah, well, you three made it easy to be a good teacher." _But not good enough_ , he thought, in regard to Nagato. "Second, when you're talking to other people and other countries, I would ease up on the 'comrades' and the intense peace talk and the 'rising as the dawn.' It works really well for the people _inside_ your organization, but for those that have no desire to be, it's going to freak them out."

"Noted."

"And, lastly," said Jiraiya, resting his arms on the table and leaning forward. "Never forget the power a group like this can have. You have to always, _always_ use it for good and nothing else."

"We will."

"Swear to me."

"I swear," said Yahiko, raising an eyebrow. "Of course, I swear." He looked almost offended, surprised that his old teacher had to even reiterate such a concept to him. Examining Jiraiya and still seeing the tenseness in his demeanor, he narrowed his eyes. "Are we about to enter into the 'business' portion of this conversation?"

Jiraiya nodded. "I'm going to be honest with you. In January, Hanzō is planning on setting a trap for you. He's going to pretend to want to negotiate a peace agreement with you in order to separate you, Nagato, and Konan from the rest of the Akatsuki, and then he's going to kidnap Konan, kill her, kill you two, and kill the rest of the Akatsuki."

In the span of only thirty seconds, Yahiko silently cycled through an intense range of emotions. Dumbfounded processing came first, with a short-circuited, wide-eyed expression as he fully comprehended the meaning of Jiraiya's words. Resting his elbows on the table, he moved to surprise, taken aback that Hanzō would be so bold, and then disbelief, knowing, in his heart, he would have fallen for it. Finally, he settled on anger, clenching his jaw in rage as the veins throbbed in his neck.

"I see," said Yahiko, attempting to sound even but failing.

"Conveniently," said Jiraiya. "The guy he's planning to send as the messenger is someone we really need dead. So, my proposal is this: me and the other two come back in January, we lure the messenger into our own trap, and we kill him. It saves you, and it saves us."

"Killing isn't quite our way."

"Sometimes it's the only way," said Jiraiya, but he quickly added: "I mean, don't make a habit of it. And, you know, double check with someone before you have to kill someone to make sure it's in the name of good and it’s justified. Never get carried away."

"And you're certain of this? About Hanzō?"

"I am."

Pausing, Yahiko took a deep breath to steady himself. "Then, yes. I agree to your proposal."

"You can tell Nagato and Konan, but you can't mention this to the rest of the Akatsuki or let on at all that anything is wrong. If I had to guess, there's already a spy in your midst."

Miserably, Yahiko rested his chin in the palms of his hands. Though he was a great leader and even greater at maintaining a mask of grace and diplomacy, he _was_ only eighteen. He had suffered through several tragedies in his early life, but as the head of an organization, he was inexperienced in dealing with tough situations.

"I'm going to ask her to marry me, you know,” said Yahiko.

"Konan?" asked Jiraiya, raising his eyebrows.

Yahiko nodded. "I don't know when we'd have time or if we'd ever have time, but it's nice to pretend we might."

"I look forward to receiving the wedding invitation," said Jiraiya, with a grin. He stood, and Yahiko followed. The latter still looked melancholy, so Jiraiya clapped him on the shoulder. "We'll be back in January, in time. I promise."

"Alright." Before Jiraiya could go, he stopped him. "Jiraiya?"

"Yeah?" he asked, and Yahiko enveloped him in a hug.

"Thank you."

Jiraiya patted him on the back. "Any time, kid."

* * *

 

When Jiraiya returned to the room, he nodded at Kakashi and Tsunade, who had been waiting on the news of his success, and said, "Alright, kids, time for bed. We're going to have an early morning tomorrow."

"Why?" asked Shizune.

"Well, we still have to bleach Tenzō's hair, so if we want to get back to Konoha at a reasonable time, we'll need to get an early start."

Though the realization hit them at different times—first Shizune, then Tenzō, and lastly Kabuto—they each adopted the same, wide-eyed expression.

"Home?" asked Shizune, wide-eyed.

"Home."

"Home!" cheered all three of the kids in unison.

They began to excitedly freak out at one another, thrilled by the prospect of finally going back to Konoha. Shizune, though hesitant of being lumped in with the two younger boys early in their stay in the Rain, had developed a sibling-like fondness for them, and she energetically listed off all the things in Konoha that she was going to show them or take them to go do.

Exchanging glances, the adults, though amused by the kids' reactions, could not help but be less thrilled.

_Out of the cult and into the catastrophe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, there we are! Thanks for sticking around. We love each and every one of you guys. 20!9 is the year of recovery, pass it around. Also, this is the chapter where people on FFN started getting mad at us because they thought the story was moving too slowly, but we put a "Slow Burn" tag on this one, so y'all have no excuses lol. In all seriousness, we swear it picks up soon.
> 
>  **Fun Fact of the Chapter:** In the beginning stages of planning this story, we had to plot out what Kakashi was going to do about the major things he would want to change in the beginning, and we knew Kabuto was going to be on that list. So, we started joking around that he should just adopt Kabuto, and somewhere along the way we went "oh, wait, he could just totally adopt Kabuto."
> 
> **Mini-FAQ (copied from FFN):**
> 
> **Q:** (paraphrased from a couple askers) Will there be conflict, or will this be more a fix-it fic?
> 
>  **A:** Yes, there's going to be a lot of conflict. Thus far, we know it's only been mostly emotional conflict as everything is still getting set up and characters are getting used to one another, but next chapter the external conflict is going to pick up and there will be so much emotional and external conflict by the end of the story that you will probably want us to stop lol. Don't get us wrong; we love a good fix-it fic, and this was totally supposed to be one in the beginning.
> 
> But, as we were planning it out it, we realized that we were personally more interested on the different layers of exploring time travel itself, rather than just a mechanism to fix things: the psychological impact of such a world-shattering event on the time-traveler and on those around them, particularly those they choose to tell, the far-reaching political and social effects that something like that could have on a world, the consequences of playing god when you've changed too many things to have the upper hand anymore or created unintended effects. That sort of thing. Even though it was more of a niche interest, there were already people who had written fix-it fics with far more care than we wanted to, so we just decided to get as weird and complicated as we liked and somewhere along the way it morphed into whatever this is lol.
> 
>  **Q:** Will we see villain POVs?
> 
>  **A:** I wouldn't hold your breath too much. There will be some scattered throughout as needed, whether we think it adds something or it's necessary for plot reasons, but for the most part, just as we don't want to spoil any of the villains' plans to our main characters, we don't want to spoil any of the villains' plans to you guys. People be schemin'.


	4. Blame it on a Fall of Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, partners. Eyyy, this is our last catch-up chapter! Thanks for all the lovely feedback y’all reviewers have given us! You words mean more than you know.
> 
> Due to the fact that we had to move the last part of last chapter to this chapter, we ended up having to split this chapter in two. So, what was originally Chapter Four is now Chapter Four and Chapter Five. But, to fix some of the pacing issues for this chapter, we had to move part of Chapter Six into Chapter Four. But, we finally figured it out, and after this, chapters should be right back on track of as-planned. So, if you notice that there’s kind of an incomplete arc in this chapter, it’s because it’s essentially a part one of two.
> 
>  **Content warnings for this chapter, so you can prepare yourself accordingly:** Suicide mention and discussion, light descriptions of PTSD and panic attacks, grief, and the gruesome abuse of italics.
> 
>  **Previously, on Once More with Feeling:** After Kakashi convinces Jiraiya and Tsunade to help him in his to save the world, Kakashi and Jiraiya go to the Konoha Orphanage to adopt Kabuto. Then, Kakashi, the two Sannin, Shizune, Tenzō, and Kabuto go to the Rain in disguise, so the adults can convince the Akatsuki to trust them and to help them kill Danzō. For a month and a half, they stay in an underground bunker, getting used to the Akatsuki and one another, while Kakashi starts feeding Yahiko the Shinobi Union plan to try and win him over. Kakashi and Tsunade spend most of their nights sparring with one another, and Tsunade shoots down any of Jiraiya’s attempts to talk to her one-on-one, causing tension to build between Jiraiya and Kakashi due to the former’s jealousy. However, Tsunade and Jiraiya yell it out, and all is well between the three of them. Once Yahiko buys Kakashi’s Shinobi Union plan, Jiraiya tells him of Hanzō’s and Danzō’s plot to kill the Akatsuki, along with their counterplot to kill Danzō. Though he is hesitant at first, Yahiko agrees to help them, and the adults decide that it’s time to go back to Konoha. Also, four years ago, Tsunade broke Kakashi’s kitchen table via attempting to throw it at his head. Now, without further ado...

**Chapter 4:**

**Blame it on a Fall of Power**

**AKA**

**“Colours” by Grouplove**

(The Prodigal Daughter)

Tsunade had avoided thinking about the moment so much that its arrival felt more like a dream, repressed in the depths of her mind until she went to sleep. Awareness of herself melted away. As they moved forward (was she walking?; was she running?; was she carrying her things or had she dropped them?; was her heart racing painfully in her chest or was it beating slow and sure?), awareness of her traveling companions melted away. That which she carried forward from what she left behind—the shadow of a hedonistic vagabond that still loomed from another life, a heart heavy from emotional goodbyes to the Akatsuki and the promise of return, and the remaining flakes of grey hair dye underneath her fingernails—dissolved into a world with only one thing:

There was not a single Konoha ninja alive who would testify against the beauty of their city’s gate.

The thought of entering the village terrified her to her core, and there was still a part of her that wanted to turn back. But, there was a reason, over the last decade, she refused to get anywhere near the village. It was beautiful, and it was home, and though there was a part of her that was begging to run away, there was a larger part almost hypnotically pulling her towards it.

“Ready?” asked Jiraiya, right before they reached the threshold of the gate.

Though his words were directed at the group, he looked at her, and it was enough to bring her out of her spell. The world sprang her back to life, and there was wind on her face and bags in her hands. Tsunade could not see Shizune’s face, hidden by a hood, but she could see the excitement in her step. As promised, Kakashi and Jiraiya stood to the right and left of her, both with concern in their eyes, and Tsunade wondered whether they could see the fear or the dream in her.

To protect Kabuto and Tenzō, the adults needed to keep them far away from anything that caused a scene. Their initial entrance into the village would be documented, so for lack of a better way to sneak them in, they shoved the two younger kids into travel bags. Tsunade gave them enough antihistamines to knock them out for the remainder of their journey home, to avoid motion sickness from being slung around in a bag and a claustrophobia-induced panic attack from Tenzō. As soon as she made her presence known, complete mayhem was likely to follow her for a while, so she and Shizune wore hoodies and sunglasses to conceal their identities long enough for them to get the kids into Kakashi’s apartment without notice.

Tsunade gave her affirmative, which everyone echoed, and they pressed on.

If the party had been led by anyone else, the jōnin at the gate would have made an official inquiry about their unexpected guests concealing their identities. But, because it was Jiraiya, the jōnin let them pass without question. Jiraiya might have been the Third’s least favorite student, but that did not influence the Third’s unending trust in him, a sentiment which radiated throughout the rest of the village. They were used to his flamboyance, eccentricities, and top-level clearance, so Jiraiya could get away with even the most ridiculous things. Jiraiya had never been more grateful for it than he was at that moment.

He wondered, whenever the Third figured out about their secrecy—which he would, at some point, whether that be soon or somewhere further down the line; he was a fool, but he wasn’t stupid, and eventually, the Third would figure out that something was amiss—how much that would change.

They dropped off the boys and Shizune at Kakashi’s apartment, carefully taking the still-sleeping Kabuto and Tenzō out of their bags and instructing Shizune to keep watch over them as the medicine wore off.

“Hello, Jiraiya,” greeted the receptionist, once they reached the Hokage Rock. “Are you here to see the Sandaime?”

“As always.”

“And who…?” she asked, looking at Tsunade.

It was a tad dramatic, taking off her sunglasses and throwing back her hoodie with a shake of her hair, but really, there was no better way to explain who she was than to just show her face. It had the desired effect, too, because the receptionist dropped her pager in surprise.

“Lady Tsunade,” she said, her eyes growing wide. “I…oh my god, you’re here. I mean…you just…you’re here.”

“I am,” said Tsunade awkwardly, unsure of how to even respond to that.

Realizing she was making a fool of herself, the receptionist went pink. “It’s just…you operated on my older sister once. She was injured on a mission.” The receptionist smiled and gave a floundering thumbs up. “Her, um, colon thanks you.”

Jiraiya snorted and tried unsuccessfully to pass it off as a cough. So embarrassed for her it was almost painful, Kakashi feigned interest in a potted plant in the corner of the room just to avoid eye contact.

“Right,” said the receptionist, her voice cracking in a squeak. “I’ll tell him you’re here.”

“Don’t tell him she’s with us,” said Jiraiya. “I want to see the look on his face.”

Nodding and refusing to look at any of them, she paged the Third Hokage. “Hello, sir, um, Jiraiya and Kakashi are here to see you.” She paused, and they could faintly hear his voice through the line. “Yes, sir, I’m fine. I just, uh, choked on my lunch.”

With one final message on his end, she hung up and waved them on.

“I don’t think I can handle that again,” said Tsunade, once they were out of earshot.

“Don’t go in with us,” said Jiraiya to Tsunade. “I want to announce you. If we’re going to do this, we might as well do it with theatrics.”

Though she rolled her eyes, Tsunade conceded.

“Jiraiya, Kakashi,” said the Third, nodding in greeting as the two entered the office and bowed their heads respectfully. “How did your test run fair?”

“Good.” Jiraiya couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “We found something.”

“Oh?”

“Something you’ll probably be very interested in. And, if I’m being honest, the most attractive thing we could have found in a run-down casino—the sexiest diamond in the rough, you could say—”

“Oh, fuck off, Jiraiya,” said Tsunade, hearing him through the door.

The Third recognized her voice before she even entered the office to cut Jiraiya off, and if nothing else, everything was worth it just to see the look on the Third’s face go from confused to stunned awe. As she shut the door behind her, he didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, the wind completely knocked out of him.

“Sandaime,” said Tsunade, bowing in respect, trying to hide that fact that she was also pleased to see him.

It took him several seconds to return to a normal breathing pattern, so his voice could return to its previous evenness. “Tsunade,” he said, and to a stranger, his pleasant smile might have looked like the same one he gave everyone. But, Jiraiya knew better; he noticed the subtle way that it reached his eyes in a way that most people could not bring out. “To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“It’s not…” Her cheeks turned a soft, pink color, and she fiddled with the bottom of her hoodie to try and distract from how difficult she found it to meet his gaze. It was one thing to have slowly opened up to Jiraiya and Kakashi as they spent every hour of every day together for over a month, but it was another to display a sudden, childlike vulnerability to the Third. “It’s not a visit. I’m coming out of retirement.”

This brought about another wave of speechlessness to the Third. “I see.”

A silence followed, both too floored to get out the things they wanted to, and neither Jiraiya nor Kakashi attempted to break it. It was a moment they needed to have. Besides, it was the least stressful silence that Jiraiya had experienced with the Third in a while, so he had to take his blessings where he could find them.

“Yeah, you know,” said Tsunade, attempting to sound nonchalant, feeling pressured to fill the silence. “Shizune’s getting older and needs to take the chūnin exams, and I could’ve sent her to take it by herself, but then I wouldn’t be able to watch her in the finals, and _I’m_ getting older—”

“You don’t look it,” said the Third, playfully jabbing at the fact that he knew her appearance wasn’t real.

“What can I say?” asked Tsunade, playfully pretending like she didn’t know it. “The Uzumaki bloodline is good for your skin.”

“Where are you staying until you can find a place?”

“Shizune and I are just going to crash at a hotel until I can snag somewhere.”

“If you’d like to save your money,” said the Third. “You’re welcome, of course, to stay at my home while you’re apartment hunting. There’s plenty of room.”

“Oh.” The fatherliness was making her struggle to feel like someone who was nearing forty instead of fourteen. “If it’s not too much trouble, of course.”

“It isn’t,” he said, looking pleased that she agreed. As if suddenly remembering that there were other people in the room, he coughed away anything that wasn’t poised professionalism from his demeanor and turned to Kakashi. “And what did you think of the trial run?”

“I think it went well, sir,” said Kakashi. “I certainly learned a lot.”

“I’m counting it as a mission success,” said Jiraiya, still grinning. “We found Tsunade, we went to gather intel, and Kakashi managed to not get us all killed.”

“A mission success, then,” said the Third, and the smile had yet to leave his eyes. He pulled out a piece of paper from his desk drawer, wrote a quick note on it, stamped it with his seal, and gave it to Tsunade. “Give this to whoever is guarding my door. They’ll let you in.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll help you grab your things,” said Kakashi, using it as an out to give Jiraiya and the Third a moment alone, before bowing respectfully. “Thank you for your time, sir.”

“Kakashi,” said the Third, nodding in farewell. “Tsunade.”

Tsunade gave a flustered half-bow before hurrying back into the hallway, and Kakashi followed behind her.

“Never mention this again,” said Tsunade, as she pulled her hoodie back up and put her sunglasses back on, covering her cherry-colored face, mortified at how bashfully she had lost her cool.

“I thought it was sweet.”

“I know where you sleep, Hatake.”

* * *

 

“That was unexpected,” said the Third, once he was confident Tsunade and Kakashi were out of earshot, politely prompting an explanation out of Jiraiya.

“What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” The Third didn’t justify that with a response and continued to look at him expectantly, so Jiraiya relented. “Yes, half the reason we left was to look for Tsunade.”

“What did you say to her?” asked the Third, looking at him in a cross between curiosity and disbelief. “That made her come back, if a war couldn’t?”

“It wasn’t one thing more than it was several things.” Jiraiya tried to pick out parts of the truth that could both be shared and were convincing, which was almost none of it. “Kakashi and I sort of good cop, bad copped her.”

“And which were you?”

“Bad cop. We met up for all of five hours before she and I were screaming at one another in a hotel room.”

“Kakashi Hatake is the least likely good cop I could possibly think of.”

“He’s mellowing out,” said Jiraiya. “And even more so, as he and I had more time to talk. He’s starting to remind me a bit of you, actually.”

“Should I be offended?” asked the Third, with a light smile.

Jiraiya returned it. “Turns out, when you take the stick out of Kakashi’s ass, he’s not as narrowly focused as he pretends to be. He believes in things like the determination of our village and the good in humanity more than you would think, but he’s practical about it. Even philosophy he looks at analytically and calling him brilliant would be an understatement. He’s one of those people who can see all the pieces of a puzzle, and he’s persuasive about it, too.”

Though Jiraiya would never say any of those things to Kakashi’s face, they weren’t false. Loathe as he was to admit it, Tsunade was right. He _did_ think highly of Kakashi. Despite what Kakashi had put he and Tsunade through, Jiraiya had even grown to consider the bastard a friend and had to admire him for it.

“So, Kakashi talked to her about the good in humanity, and you yelled at her about the good in humanity?” asked the Third, clearly not buying any of it.

“No, Kakashi and I didn’t coordinate near that well. She and I mostly just…fought. The kind of things you hold in for a decade of not seeing one another and believing the other is in the wrong. She was looking for someone to be angry at, and I lost my patience, and even though we both meant most of the things we said, it was handled inelegantly on both of our parts.”

“That I can believe,” said the Third.

“And Kakashi—truthfully, my deciding to take him on a mission wasn’t a random impulse.”

“I guessed.”

The truth was exhausted, so the lies began, presented with a flow that was both detailed and natural. In advance, Jiraiya carefully crafted a story about Kakashi’s transformation that started with the deaths of a small, unknown offshoot of the Hatake clan in the northern part of the country, save for two young boys, and a letter from friends asking any remaining Hatake in Konoha to take in the kids. This prompted Kakashi to look at his views on family differently, reexamine the relationship he had with his father, and work through the trauma caused by his death. As part of this healing process, he came to Jiraiya asking for stories about his father and insights into his personality. Jiraiya was impressed enough with his progress that he decided to take him on a last-ditch effort to try and convince Tsunade to return home.

It surprised Jiraiya how guiltless he found lying to his old teacher.

“So, we went,” concluded Jiraiya. “I yelled, and when it was his turn, he just told her that life could get better if she let it. _She_ had to let it, but he understood what she was going through and that there were people willing to support her as she figured out how to do that. Plus, she gave him her necklace and he didn’t die, so we had that going for us—”

“She _what_?”

“—and then Kakashi used a huge chunk of his savings to pay back half her gambling debt in the town we found her in, so we had that going for us—”

“He _what_?”

“—so, between everything both of us told her, she decided that she, too, was going to choose to work on getting better. She and Kakashi agreed to do it together.”

“And how much better is she?” asked the Third.

“Blood is still off the table for her,” said Jiraiya. “So, she’s not going to be doing surgeries anytime soon. But, her nightmares have been less. She’s less depressed. She’s _here_.”

The Third leaned back in his chair, still processing everything. “How _bizarre_.”

“It’s been a bizarre two months.” He couldn’t get around that; there was no version of events where he left with Kakashi and came back with Tsunade that wasn’t bizarre. However, he thrived in bizarre, so he knew the Third wouldn’t find anything unbelievable on that account. “But, productive, obviously.”

Giving him a long, scrutinizing look, the Third tried to gain absolutely anything from him, but Jiraiya was good at giving nothing. “Did any actual spying get done?”

“I said Tsunade was only half,” said Jiraiya. “And she only took a week. After that, we all went undercover for a while and tried to find what we could.”

“Tsunade and Shizune, too?” Jiraiya nodded. “And was Kakashi _actually_ a good apprentice?”

“I think he has potential,” said Jiraiya. The truth was, of course, that Kakashi was arguably better at remaining hidden than he was, not that Jiraiya would ever admit that. But, he needed to keep all eyes off Kakashi until after they killed Danzō. Most importantly, he needed to keep Kakashi away from the eyes of Danzō himself. Mentioning to the Third that, if he put Kakashi in ANBU, he would be the best ninja in the organization might prompt a closer look from Danzō and maybe even a ROOT invitation. “He’s smart, of course, but a spy that doth not make, otherwise I could have settled with Minato. It will take time for me to say for certain.”

“And the information you gathered?”

“That was less successful than finding Tsunade,” admitted Jiraiya, and it was, in a way, true. They learned everything they needed to know the day they found her, and they only used their time in the Rain to get close to the Akatsuki. “Everyone had already started the process of surrendering by the time we got anywhere, which is great for Konoha but bad for spying. Hard to ascertain anything useful when everyone’s putting their cards openly on the table.”

“I think you might have been right about Minato,” said the Third. “While I can’t say one way or the other if it would have been the same if he kept his team, he has certainly given his full attention to the war, and we are better for it.”

“We’ll never know,” said Jiraiya, who did know. “But I’m glad we were safe rather than sorry.”

“Anything else of note?”

“Nothing exciting is happening in the south,” offered Jiraiya apologetically. “Unless you count the end of typhoon season.”

“No news is good news,” said the Third diplomatically.

A silence fell over the two, marking the end of either of them having anything to say to the other.

“Speaking of bizarre, one last thing, before I go,” said Jiraiya. “Going back to the letter, when Kakashi asked me what he should do about it, I told him, because I’m me, he should take in the kids. He went for it.”

“You convinced Kakashi to adopt two children?” asked the Third, to which Jiraiya nodded. “Jiraiya, he’s thirteen-years-old.”

“It’ll be good for him. Adopting children builds character.”

“He _is_ a child.”

“He knows what he’s getting into,” said Jiraiya. “Plus, they’re academy age, so they’re plenty old enough to do most things by themselves. And, it’s too late, now. We picked them up from the friend’s place on the way back and stopped by the orphanage to transfer guardian rights to Kakashi.”

The Third still looked at him like he was insane, so Jiraiya continued. “If there were two members of your clan trapped some place they couldn’t be taken care of, would you leave them?”

“Is there a request at the end of this?” asked the Third, not wanting to argue.

“He needs personal leave,” said Jiraiya. “Adjusting those kids to life here is going to take a lot of time and effort.”

“It’s going to be hard for you to train Kakashi if he’s stuck in the village.”

“I’m not asking you to retire him forever,” said Jiraiya. “He just wants time to make the kids more self-sufficient, and since I’m the one who convinced him to do it in the first place, I’m sure I can find it in my heart to be lenient.”

“Very well. I’ll approve it.”

“Thank you.” Jiraiya stood up and walked towards the door, waving backwards. “I’ll get the official mission report to you in a couple days.”

“Jiraiya,” said the Third, stopping him just as his hand touched the door handle. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, and he left.

Later, the Third would look back and see the holes in the story—would wonder what was kept from him in that moment—but for right now, for a while, it didn’t matter.

_She was home._

* * *

 

Dinner that night—shared with the Third, Biwako, and Asuma—was strange, to say the least. Tsunade thought that the last two months had accustomed her to eating regular meals with people she actually knew, but as she quickly realized, it had only gotten her used to cults. Sitting at dinner with them like they were just regular people in regular lives was giving her a mini crisis.

Much of it was catch up. The Third and Biwako told her of things that happened in her absence, both with them and the village, and Tsunade tried to downplay the fact that she’d had absolutely nothing going for her over the last decade other than depleted funds and far too many drunken stories. Their eldest son, Daisuke, got married two years ago, they told her, and for lack of anything better to contribute, Tsunade told them of Shizune’s skill as a ninja.

“She needs to take the chūnin exam in the spring,” said Tsunade, as the fall exams had already passed. “She’s too old to only be a genin.”

“I’m not sure being a genin has an age limit,” said the Third, smiling in amusement. “But, I agree.” He turned to Shizune. “In the meantime, I think we should place you in an existing genin team, so you have someone to take the exams with in April.”

“You’re not serious,” said Tsunade. “She’s been training with me for a decade. What basics is some random jōnin going to teach her that I haven’t?”

“Unless you picked up some other kids along the way, teamwork experience,” said the Third pointedly. “And, you know that the chūnin exams always go smoother if you’re already familiar with your teammates.”

“I don’t mind, Lady Tsunade,” said Shizune. “Really.”

“If you’re sure,” said Tsunade, before turning back towards the Third. “Just pick her a good one.”

“I will,” he assured her. “Are you planning on taking work at the hospital, now that you’re back? Or taking on mission work?”

“Well,” said Tsunade slowly, who truthfully came back to Konoha with no semblance of a life plan. _God, she was such a fuckup_. “My relationship with medicine is still…complicated.” Which was taken to mean, by everyone in the know, ‘yes, I do still suffer uncontrollable and paralyzing flashbacks at the sight of blood.’ “I’m working on it, but the hospital would suit me better for the time being.”

“Would you do me a favor?” asked the Third. “Administratively, the hospital and village leadership have been…disconnected in your absence. The hospital mainly handles its own affairs, and the hospital staff and I have little communication, as no one in the main branch of village leadership knows enough about medicine to properly comment on it. You were always my key inside, so now that you’re back, would you review the hospital for me?”

“Like a health inspector?” asked Tsunade, knowing the Third was just throwing her something to do, and she was offended by the notion, even though she did need something to do.

“Like a consultant,” placated the Third. “Report what’s missing, what should be taken away, what’s being done wrong, that kind of thing. I’m sure it, like everything else, is suffering from its own share of problems due to the war. I just don’t know what they are.”

“Alright,” she said. “But, don’t tell anyone I’m here, then. I want to do it undercover.”

(The Morning After ft. Day One)

Tsunade did not use a hoodie to make her way through the streets of Konoha this time, disguising herself via jutsu instead. Not that it mattered, much. The sun wouldn’t rise for another three hours, and the streets were nearly barren, save for a few wanderers. She probably could have worn a shirt that spelled out “I’m Tsunade of the Sannin” in fairy lights, and the exhausted ninja trudging home from a night shift somewhere wouldn’t have noticed.

Waking in the middle of the night wasn’t her first choice. But, she needed to ask Kakashi where she was going, and she knew he would be awake at three twenty to wake Tenzō (not that it made him anymore thrilled to give her an address in the small hours), and she needed to accomplish her task before the workday started.

A solid three minutes after Tsunade knocked on the door, a sleepy Rin Nohara answered.

“Orders from the Hokage,” said Tsunade, flashing the folded letter that the Third gave her to get into his house, hoping Rin wouldn’t notice it was already open. “May I come in?”

Still blinking sleep from her eyes, Rin was too delirious to refuse. As soon as the door shut behind her, Tsunade dropped her disguise.

“Hello, Rin,” said Tsunade, and the girl leapt in surprise. “My name’s Tsunade. Kakashi’s told me about you.”

It took Rin several seconds to even think about responding, as she processed every part of that introduction. “But you…and he’s…am I being hazed or something?”

“What the hell kind of hazing rituals are you kids pulling nowadays?”

“I don’t know,” said Rin, growing distressed, and Tsunade realized that she was failing Kakashi’s request of ‘please don’t scare the hell out of her.’ “I’ve never been hazed before.”

“Look, kid—” Tsunade made a slug appear in her hands. “—see? Tsunade.”

Rin looked at the slug, looked up at Tsunade, looked back down at the slug, looked back up at Tsunade, and her eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. “Oh my god.”

“Oh my god, indeed,” said Tsunade. “Now, I need you to tell me a few things.”

* * *

 

At five thirty in the morning, Rin Nohara clocked into her shift at the hospital. She struck up a few minutes of small talk with the receptionist, just as she always did, before putting on her scrubs and meeting her supervising medical-nin. Newly placed at the hospital, Rin was on trial and would be for another two months, at which time her supervisor would evaluate her performance and decide whether she would be allowed to proceed.

Her supervisor was confident she would, as she showed good promise thus far, but she noticed that Rin, that morning, seemed off. Even though Rin answered all her quiz questions correctly, she was distracted by everything, often staring aimlessly down hallways and up at ceilings and through windows like she was searching for something lost. A couple times, Rin seemed to disappear entirely, and when her supervisor would look around for her, she suddenly reappeared like she never left, making her supervisor feel like she was starting to lose her mind.

Strangest still, when her supervisor asked her to take a patient’s blood, Rin said something about feeling queasy and excused herself to the bathroom, even though she had done it a thousand times. As it was nearing the end of her shift anyway, her supervisor told her to just go home, worried that she might be getting ill, as it was all very unlike her.

* * *

 

Though, for the first night, they had nothing but a small nest of blankets on Kakashi’s floor, both Kabuto and Tenzō were thrilled that they no longer had to sleep in a cramped bedroom with four other people. Kakashi relinquished his bedroom to them and moved permanently to the couch, as he slept far less than they did and wanted the freedom to move around as he pleased without waking them. He woke them up earlier than they were used to, particularly with the time difference between the Rain and Konoha, but they still looked refreshed and excited to start the day, their sleep quality improved by no longer staying in a bunker.

Kakashi was less relieved. It felt selfish to regret returning home, particularly with how thrilled the kids were, but it was a reminder of everything that he had been trying to put out of his head. The Rain was alarming and bizarre, but it was foreign enough that it was justifiable. At least in the Rain, his reflection was close to his own age, and it was different enough that it felt clearly like a disguise and therefore not uncomfortable to see. On the other hand, looking into the mirror the night before and seeing his current, true form—that of his thirteen-year-old self—had disturbed him so greatly that he was unable to sleep until well after his nightly ritual of waking up Tenzō at three-in-the-morning.

It felt cowardly, but that morning, he walked into the bathroom with his eyes shut and transformed into his thirty-seven-year-old self once the door was locked behind him. He did not share Tsunade’s obsessive fear of aging, but even still, he never thought he would be so glad to see the wrinkles around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes. After taking an unnecessarily long amount time to wash his face and brush his teeth, studying his own appearance as if staring at it for long enough would make it real, he closed his eyes before dropping the jutsu.

“Remember, you two,” he said, as he sent the boys off to brush their teeth and wash up in turn. “When we go out today, you still have to pretend to be brothers.”

“I don’t have to pretend,” said Kabuto.  “I’ve already decided that Tenzō _is_ my brother.”

Though Tenzō looked embarrassed as he walked into the bathroom, he didn’t look displeased. Kakashi herded Kabuto in after him and went to go make breakfast, but midway through his preparations, Shizune knocked on the apartment door.

“Do you have a second?” asked Shizune.

“Sure,” said Kakashi. “Have you eaten, yet? I’ve made plenty, if you want it.”

“Only if it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s not.” Kakashi wandered back into the kitchen to finish up what he was doing, and she sat down at his kitchen table. “Tea?”

She nodded and let the silence hang over them a few moments more. “You know, I didn’t really like you at first,” she said, but quickly added: “I mean, I do now, but in the Rain, Tsunade and Jiraiya treated you different than me, and I was kinda bitter about it, and the three of you kept all these secrets, and—”

“It’s okay,” he said, hardly blaming her. “I understand. I might not have liked me either.”

“But, I do want to thank you. I mean, I know you can’t tell me what happened, but I know you’re the reason Lady Tsunade decided to come out of retirement. Because of that, I got to come home.” Looking down, she fiddled with the edge of her shirt in a way that reminded him strongly of Tsunade. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mhmm.”

“Do you think it’ll last?” she asked, her voice small. “I mean, do you think she’ll stay?”

“I do,” said Kakashi, setting down a cup of tea in front of her. _I hope_. “No one can make Tsunade do anything she doesn’t want to. Jiraiya and I gave her a push, but the reason she came back to Konoha was because it’s her home, too. She just needed reminding.”

“She said that Konoha is pretty different than the last time she was here. Do you think she’ll still be reminded?”

“Different or not,” said Kakashi softly. “It’s still home.”

* * *

 

No matter how much Jiraiya asked, Kakashi would not divulge the plot of his books. “If I tell you,” he said, in a rare moment of artistic sensitivity. “It won’t come from your heart.”

Alone for the first time in two months, Jiraiya knew what he needed to do, both inspired and uneased by Kakashi’s words. Holding a pencil over a blank piece of paper, Jiraiya closed his eyes and reached out into the universe, and the universe showed him several things. Death, betrayal, loss of identity, recovery, reality, and redemption swirled together like ribbons in a streamer, distinct but intertwined. Most importantly, he saw love. He pondered the nature of beginnings, of starting where there was only up to go, of the potential to be so much more than what was thought to be allowed. There was not a path before him, but he knew where to find it.

And, he began to write.

* * *

 

Having nothing better to do, Shizune joined Kakashi and the boys on their day of running errands, disguised as to not reveal Tsunade’s return to the village. However, before they did anything, she dragged Kakashi, Tenzō, and Kabuto, the latter two with their eyes closed the entire way, outside the village to the front entrance. So, when they opened their eyes, the boys’ very first glimpse of Konoha was the welcoming gate.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked them.

Though Kakashi’s list of to-dos was tediously mundane, Shizune and the boys were ecstatic, bordering on hyperactive, caught up in the thrill of Konoha. The three of them were quite certain that it was the happiest they had ever been.

“It’s weird, though,” said Tenzō, looking up at the sky.

“What is?” asked Shizune.

“I didn’t know the sun was so bright,” he said. “It’s kind of nice.”

None of them knew what to say to that, so Kakashi urged them onward.

After Kabuto’s basic checkup for entrance to the academy and optometrist appointment, Shizune and Tenzō helped Kabuto pick out glasses while Kakashi dealt with all the paperwork. All three of them tried on nearly every pair, giggling at all the ridiculous ones, from a pair of wiry, octagon-shaped glasses that Shizune put on, to a pair of massive, glittery, red frames that nearly swallowed Kabuto whole.

“If you three don’t quiet down,” said Kakashi, never looking up from the paperwork. “I’ll make you buy those, Kabuto.”

Their eyes went wide, and suddenly very business-like, they decided on a pair of black, rectangular glasses for Kabuto. To further obfuscate Tenzō’s face, Kakashi made him pick out a pair, too. At Tenzō’s request, they went with a pair of oval glasses with clear lenses and bright blue frames.

“What do you guys think?” asked Tenzō, once they got outside, holding up his glasses to the sky. “Do you think they match?”

“You wanted glasses that looked like the sky?” asked Shizune.

Tenzō nodded. “That way, no matter where I go, I’ll never be without a piece of it again.”

* * *

 

The rest of the day was a blur of shopping and academy registrations and the kids persuading Kakashi to let them go look at various buildings and shrines and other oddities until he felt like he was literally going to pass out from exhaustion. Once Kakashi finally managed to corral them home, Shizune and the boys played a card game at the kitchen table, and Kakashi laid down on the couch with his eyes closed. Though he was unable to sleep with the noise, he enjoyed the rest all the same.

When there was a knock at the door, he struggled to not ignore it, wanting instead to catnap forever.

“Oh my god,” said Rin, when Kakashi let her into the apartment. “Oh, my god.”

“I take it Tsunade found you?” he asked.

Rin nodded and opened her mouth to say something else, but she only then noticed the three new faces in Kakashi’s apartment and froze. Equally curious, Shizune and the boys paused their game to look at her.

“Rin, this is Kabuto, Tenzō, and Shizune.” He appreciated that this scenario was weird for all of them, but he was too tired to try and cohesively string people together anymore, and he offered little explanation. “Guys, this is Rin—my old teammate.”

Though Rin knew that the boys in Kakashi’s apartment would probably be the most peculiar story, her attention was drawn only towards Shizune. The two girls eyed each other warily, both thrown off by the other’s presence. Rin was suspicious of Shizune, not liking that there was a pretty girl around their age hanging out comfortably in Kakashi’s apartment. Having grown so used to Kakashi being an adult during their stay in the Rain, Shizune still thought of him as someone closer in age to Tsunade and Jiraiya than her, even now that he had his younger form. However, Rin, both clearly a young teenager and his peer, shattered that illusion, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Nice to meet you,” they all echoed in unison. They were all awkward and stunted—save for Kabuto, who was always glad to meet other people—the girls because of their suspiciousness of one another and Tenzō because everything he did tended to be awkward.

“Do you want to play with us?” asked Kabuto.

“Alright,” said Rin, unsure of how to decline.

As the kids played and Kakashi struggled to stay awake, Kakashi and Rin caught up with one another. There was a lot Rin wanted to tell Kakashi, mainly about the hospital, and Kakashi felt compelled to explain who all these people were—at least, the fake explanation—and how they came to be connected to him. The news that he had adopted two children bewildered her, but she found it honorable that he took in the remaining two members of his family.

“You know, Rin, I’m going to be pretty busy for a while,” said Kakashi. “If you have time, would you mind showing Shizune around and introducing her to our friends? She doesn’t know anyone here.”

“Sure.” If she was being honest with herself, half of agreeing to the good deed was to impress Kakashi and do as he asked. However, she did feel bad that Shizune was so alone, even if Rin was distrusting of her. “Lady Tsunade wants to go back to the hospital tomorrow and I’ll be stuck in my apartment alone again, so if you wanted, Shizune, you could come over for a little while.”

Shizune went wide-eyed; never in her life had someone her own age invited her to do something, and she didn’t know how to react or respond. Sensing this, Kakashi nodded his head, subtle enough so that Rin wouldn’t see, encouraging her to accept. Mimicking his nodding, she agreed.

* * *

 

“How was the hospital?” asked Shizune, once Tsunade returned to their room at the Third Hokage’s late that evening.

“I’m still evaluating,” said Tsunade, nearly collapsing on her own bed.

“I mean.” Shizune studied her carefully. “How was…being back in the hospital?”

Tsunade paused. “I’m still evaluating. How was Konoha?”

“It was great,” admitted Shizune. “Kakashi took us everywhere. Well, we sort of dragged Kakashi everywhere. I know you and I have been to a lot of really cool cities, but Konoha feels special somehow. Is that stupid?”

“No,” said Tsunade softly, smiling fondly, sadly. “It’s not.”

“But, I met Rin today,” said Shizune, frowning. “She wants me to hang out at her apartment tomorrow, while she’s stuck there.”

“Do you not like her?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just, no one my age has ever asked me to hang out before. What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Then, we’ll kill her.” Shizune shot her a glare. Laughing, Tsunade got up, sat on Shizune’s bed, and wrapped her arms around her. Despite Tsunade’s hesitance of Konoha, Shizune could tell by her affectionateness that she was in a good mood. “Okay, okay, look. If she doesn’t like you, it’s her loss, because you’re perfectly likable. I wouldn’t have kept you around if you weren’t.”

“Yeah, but you raised me. You’re just used to me at this point.”

“Jiraiya likes you,” said Tsunade. “Kakashi, Tenzō, and Kabuto like you. Do you think Kakashi would have introduced you to his old teammate if he didn’t?”

Shizune leaned on Tsunade’s shoulder, pushing her luck with Tsunade’s spirit. “Will you tell me a little bit about Konoha? I asked Kakashi, but you know him. He was very… _technical_. Just, ‘oh, we had these Hokages and these wars, with these dates,’ and that kind of thing. Nothing about the people or the culture or anything useful.”

“Sure. What do you want to know?”

“Anything,” said Shizune. “Everything.”

“Well, I guess the heart of Konoha is what people call the ‘Will of Fire.’ I can’t decide if I think it’s bullshit or not, but either way, it’s this belief that—”

Continuing on, Tsunade talked with a warmth that Shizune had not heard in a long time. She talked about different holidays, customs, and the complexities of clan relations in Konoha. Not holding back for the first time since Shizune had known her, she told funny stories about people in the village that she knew: the Third Hokage, the Sannin, her old genin team, a cousin that she had only mentioned once or twice.

Entranced, Shizune listened intently, trying to absorb every detail. Everything felt so real but still so much like a fairytale, like Shizune a was hearing one of the bedtime stories that Tsunade told her when she was younger. And, like those times, long ago, Tsunade kept going until Shizune fell asleep.

(The Morning After ft. Day Two)

The next day, Rin’s medical supervisor arranged for her to observe a lung transplant procedure from behind the operating glass and quizzed her on what was happening. Rin’s hands were around her eyes like binoculars against the glass, which her supervisor thought was just to block out the flare from the lights above, but she could have sworn she caught sight of Rin’s eyes closed in the reflection.

Her supervisor passed that off as ridiculous, however, because there was no way Rin could have answered all her questions correctly without even looking at the surgery. In fact, this was the best Rin had ever done during one of these sessions. Rin, she concluded, must have just been concentrating for a moment.

During the entire procedure, she only got one question wrong, and when corrected, Rin turned sharply towards her and said, “What?”

“That one wasn’t correct,” said her supervisor.

Rin looked like she was going to argue, which was very out of character for her, but the fight left her, she let out a soft “oh,” and she turned back towards the glass.

* * *

 

As they sat and talked together in her apartment, Rin—real Rin—got the impression that Shizune was socially awkward, so much so that Rin felt bad for thinking ill of her at first. It wasn’t that she wasn’t kind; she had been nothing but sweet and polite since she arrived. But, she looked nervous the entire time, fidgeting awkwardly and unable to make continual eye contact. Rin struggled to keep a conversation flowing between them, and she was running out of topics to talk about to try and help Shizune open up.

“So,” said Rin, attempting to sound light, figuring she might as well get the question out of the way, since they weren’t getting anywhere else. “You and Kakashi became friends while traveling around, then?”

“No,” she said, which took Rin aback, and Shizune quickly realized that the comment came across as an insult to her old teammate. “Oh, I just mean, he’s their friend, so it’s weird to think of him like that. He’s more of a…” She trailed off, failing to find the word she meant.

“Whose friend?”

“Jiraiya’s and Lady Tsunade’s.”

“Yeah?” asked Rin, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I hated him at first, because they treated him so different than me, but I guess I got used to it.” Shizune grinned. “The three of them can bicker round and round for hours. Kakashi and Lady Tsunade liked to pretend that they weren’t as over-the-top as Jiraiya, but half the time, they were just as bad.”

Rin sat on that for a moment, trying to process it, but the more she thought about it, the less sense it made. “That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

“What do you mean? What’s he like here?”

“He’s _cool_ ,” said Rin. Realizing how dumb that sounded, her face went pink. “Boys can just be so stupid, sometimes, but Kakashi’s more mature than that. He’s smarter than other boys, you know? He can be distant and a little uncaring, but he just knows how important being a ninja is. Good ninja should be expected to have their emotions under control, anyway, so he doesn’t have time for those that don’t.” Shizune gave her a weird look. “What?”

“That doesn’t sound like him,” said Shizune. “The uncaring part, I mean. He definitely wasn’t emotional, but he was really protective of everyone, especially the boys and Lady Tsunade. I just thought he had his own strong, silent type way of caring about people.”

“You think?” asked Rin, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest.

Shizune nodded, but then her eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t be so sure that he doesn’t act stupid, though. Don’t tell anyone I told you this, because I’m still irritated. He and Jiraiya started playing this game they called sneak attack to ‘train our reflexes,’ but I _know_ it was really just to amuse themselves—”

As Rin listened to Shizune finally talk, she was, on one hand, glad to know that the stranger in front of her appeared to harbor no romantic feelings towards Kakashi. However, on the other, she felt even worse knowing that the Kakashi in Shizune’s memories seemed like just as much of a stranger.

* * *

 

Due to the secrecy that surrounded her potential pregnancy, Kushina could not outright ask almost anyone questions, and she didn’t want to involve the people who could know until there was actually a pregnancy to be secretive about. So, she did the next best thing—in disguise, she paid a genin to steal every pregnancy-related pamphlet that the hospital had on display.

Of course, when she told him this, she meant for him to take a single one of each unique pamphlet. Unfortunately, the genin took her words to mean _every_ single pamphlet. So, instead of having a nice selection of two to six pamphlets to read, she became the proud owner of four-hundred and fifty-seven brochures and a genin who was being chased after by hospital staff for being her paid pamphlet-hitman.

Though he was an idiot, once she got them both hidden from the sight of the angry medical-nin, Kushina paid him extra for good measure. Technically, he did complete his objective, even at such a high cost to himself, and she got what she needed.

According to one of the pamphlets (well, ninety-five of them), conceiving a child should not start with the obvious, and instead should begin with a pre-pregnancy checkup. Kushina obviously couldn’t ask for one of those, so she just decided to cash in her yearly checkup a bit early and hope the bloodwork they ran would be good enough.

“Is Rin here?” she asked, as a medical-nin lead her to a checkup room.

“I can see if she’s available,” said the medical-nin.

When Rin walked into the room, Kushina expected her to be mildly surprised and then smile and greet her as normal, as Rin was apt to do. Instead, when Rin realized who her next patient was, she froze in place like all the wind was knocked out of her.

“I’m going to go check on a patient down the hall,” said Rin’s supervisor. “Give her a lookover and take her bloodwork, please.”

Rin gave no acknowledgment of these words nor seemed to notice when her supervisor left.

With a sense of déjà vu, Kushina realized that her expression was eerily similar to the look Kakashi gave her two months ago. There was more blatant fondness in Rin’s than there had been in Kakashi’s, but there was the same undertone of melancholy, as if she was afraid that Kushina might disappear through the floor at any moment or that she reminded her of someone she once knew.

However, while the look Kakashi gave her was uncharacteristic, Kushina could still see a tiny sliver of the boy she once knew inside of it. Despite outer appearances, there was absolutely nothing of Rin inside the person in front of her, and Kushina pulled a kunai and held it against faux-Rin’s neck.

“I know you’re not her,” said Kushina, her voice low and threatening.

The stranger in front of her grinned in a smug, lopsided way that _definitely_ did not belong to Rin. “Careful who you pull a kunai on, little cousin. Don’t think that just because you’re an adult now—” Even before she dropped the transformation jutsu, Kushina knew who it was; there was only one person on the planet who had ever called her ‘little cousin.’ So, when the not-Rin grabbed Kushina’s wrist to push it and the kunai it was holding upwards and away from her neck with an unrivaled strength, it gave even easier than it should have. “—I still couldn’t beat you in a fight.”

Tables flipped, suddenly it was Kushina who was looking at Tsunade with a mixture of surprise and awe. Letting go of Kushina’s wrist, Tsunade smiled wider.

“It’s really good to see you again,” said Tsunade warmly.

“Tsunade!” said Kushina in surprise, nearly throwing herself at her in a hug, as if she was still the kid Tsunade once knew. If Tsunade had been almost anyone else, the embrace would have knocked her to the ground, but she stood her ground easily. “You’re here, and…you’re Rin?”

“The Third Hokage wanted me to review the hospital,” she said, hugging her back briefly, before transforming into Rin again. “I knew the people here would behave very differently if I showed up out of the blue.”

“Where is actual-Rin?”

“I’m holding her hostage in her apartment.” Kushina raised an eyebrow. “Not at the end of a knife. I just told her that she couldn’t leave while this—” Tsunade gestured to her current appearance. “—was happening.”

Nodding, Kushina was still dumbfounded, and her grin had yet to fade in the slightest. “Okay, now, actual doctor’s appointment,” said Tsunade. “Because I’m a little too close to getting Rin fired.”

Tsunade did the first parts without hesitation: taking her temperature, weight, and blood pressure, examining her sinus cavities, and making sure her reflexes were still working properly. But, once the lookover portion was out of the way, all that was left was the “take her bloodwork” part of Rin’s supervisor’s request. Tsunade looked between the needle and Kushina’s arm a few times, and though she tried to be discrete about it, Kushina noticed.

“Oh,” said Kushina, realizing that Tsunade still wasn’t cured of the phobia that drove her out of Konoha in the first place.

“Are you squeamish?” asked Tsunade. She wasn’t. “Would you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I’m going to take your bloodwork without looking, and when I ask, I need you to tell me if you see the needle and your arm doing the things I describe.”

Though she didn’t doubt Tsunade at all, Kushina _did_ doubt herself, so she was surprised when the exercise worked. Tsunade’s muscle memory was incredible—able to prepare everything and take her bloodwork without peaking at anything.

“Thanks,” said Tsunade, putting it out of sight and throwing her gloves in the garbage. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Kushina, and she laughed. “I’m just glad you’re here, you know?”

Tsunade opened her mouth to respond, but Rin’s supervisor came back into the room and interrupted her.

“All finished?

“Finished,” said Tsunade, before turning back towards Kushina. “What are you doing the rest of the day?”

“Nothing,” she said, hoping the question meant Tsunade wanted to spend time with her. “My schedule is open.”

“Want to grab lunch? I think I’ve seen enough here.”

Thrilled, Kushina nodded, and before Rin’s supervisor could inquire, Tsunade dropped her disguise for the last time. “Don’t hold the past two days against Rin,” said Tsunade, and the supervisor dropped her clipboard, recognizing her instantly. “I’ve been holding her hostage in her own apartment.”

Arm in arm, Tsunade and Kushina left the room, and Kushina’s laughter carried them down the hall.

“Oh, _shit_ ,” she heard the medical-nin say.

* * *

 

To stay out of the public eye, they agreed to do lunch at Kushina’s home. It was easier to talk there, anyway—no nosy patrons and no skirting around issues that couldn’t be known to the general population. Since they hadn’t seen one another in so long, they wanted the chance to unrestrictedly chat about whatever they pleased.

Because Kushina had pork that was going to go bad soon, they decided on tonkatsu, and they prepared it together. “Are you in the village for good?” asked Kushina, and Tsunade nodded. “Not that I’m not excited, but why’d you come back?”

Tsunade gave her a long, hard look. Unlike with the Third, Tsunade had no desire to lie to Kushina, not wanting to break that trust later. “I’ll tell you soon, but for now, don’t ask. I don’t want to lie to you.”

For a ninja, classified reasons for one’s actions were the norm, so Kushina didn’t find it suspicious. The “I’ll tell you soon” part struck her as odd, but not so much that it lasted for long.

“Where’s your husband?” asked Tsunade, before adding: “God, it’s so weird to think of you being married. You were a child when I left.”

“I was fourteen, Tsunade.”

“So, a child.”

Kushina grinned. “He’s finishing up with the war, so I’ve been told, and he should be home soon. Thank you for the wedding present, by the way.” It had been simple, sent when the news of the event finally reached Tsunade: an unsigned letter that just said “congratulations, little cousin” and a blue and green, ombré comb with the Uzumaki symbol on the handle—the only Uzumaki heirloom that Tsunade kept when she left the village. “I cried when I got it. The comb is beautiful, you know?”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Truthfully, Tsunade had almost pawned it a few times, but she was glad that she hadn’t. “Is he treating you well? Because, if he isn’t, you know I have to kill him, right?”

“Yes,” she said, with a laugh. “He is. Right now, his only crime is being gone so often. Somehow, my husband ended up _too_ good.”

When they sat down to eat, Kushina filled her in on the other, notable events in her life over the last decade. A significant portion of it was just describing her engagement and wedding, beaming with the radiance of young love that Tsunade remembered in her own life and missed so terribly that it made her chest ache. She was glad, however, that Kushina got to experience it. If no one else, Kushina, as tragic as her life had been but how good she remained regardless, deserved that kind of happiness.

Afterward, as they cleaned up, Tsunade went to throw away their napkins, and Kushina tried to stop her with a panicked “wait.” But, it was too late, and the trash can was already open by the time Tsunade processed what she was saying. Even though Tsunade knew that Kushina and Minato were planning on having a kid soon, the contents still took her off guard.

“Why the hell do you have five-hundred pregnancy brochures in your trash can?”

“Four-hundred and fifty-seven,” said Kushina, as if that somehow made her seem better and not worse. “Okay, look, you can’t tell anyone, you know? Minato and I agreed to try for a baby after the war is finished, and since that’s hopefully coming up soon, I wanted to figure out what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Him, mostly,” said Tsunade, and Kushina both laughed and wrinkled her face in disgust. As their relationship had always been more parental than peer, she was not sure she liked Tsunade commenting on such things. “Though, if today was your sneaky attempt at getting a pre-pregnancy workup, you know we didn’t run all the tests we needed to, right?”

“What, really?” asked Kushina, crestfallen, and Tsunade nodded. “Ugh, that’s a pain.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll take care of it.”

Truthfully, the slip up was exactly what Tsunade wanted. Kushina outright telling her that she was planning on getting pregnant was way easier than trying to slyly coax it out of her later. As Kushina trusted her, Tsunade had a decent shot of getting her to fall into their ( _the FUCKS_ , thought Tsunade stupidly) plan. It felt so manipulative that Tsunade felt gross, but if it could save Kushina’s life, she was willing to go for it.

“When you think you’ve succeeded on…conceiving,” said Tsunade. “Come to me before you tell anyone, so I can confirm it for you. You can’t just let any random medical-nin know.”

“I will.”

“And, you need to get rid of those pamphlets. If the wrong person sees them in your garbage can—”

“I was planning on taking them to one of the training fields and setting them on fire,” admitted Kushina. “It seemed like the best way to get rid of them and leave no evidence.”

“Do you often commit arson to get rid of garbage?” asked Tsunade, raising an eyebrow.

“Look, one of my best friends is an Uchiha,” she said, grinning mischievously. “You learn to appreciate burn piles.”

Tsunade shook her head with a front of disapproval, but she was secretly amused. At heart, she was still the same Kushina as the awkward teen that Tsunade knew.

“On that note, I should go,” said Tsunade, grabbing her things. “I need to write up a report and give it to the Sandaime.” However, she returned the mischievous grin. “But, first, let’s go set some stuff on fire.”

* * *

 

If Kakashi was less tired when he went to pick up Kabuto from his first day of school, the sight of Kabuto sitting next to Itachi on the steps of the academy might have tugged on his heartstrings. They were chatting happily with a few others, as coherently as small children could, and the only shadow on Itachi’s face was the foretelling of innocence lost. Guilt might have bubbled inside of him, rising into his throat and drowning him. He was, after all, the very first student Kakashi failed.

However, he only slept an hour and thirty minutes the night before, and he had not eaten since yesterday afternoon, so he felt nothing.

“Time to go, Kabuto,” he said.

With a smile on his face, Kabuto said goodbye to the gaggle of kids around him, leaped off the steps, and rushed over to Kakashi. On the walk home, he narrated his day in great detail, almost spastic in excitement, but Kakashi barely heard him. Kakashi wondered, if he was in a better state, what he might feel in this scenario. Would he be glad that Kabuto enjoyed school? Would he be relieved that Kabuto could socialize normally, something that would tie him to the village and help him stay grounded and sane? Would he be shaken by the outlandishness of going about life like Kabuto was basically his child? Would he be wracked with remorse at the sight of the dead faces around him, miraculously withdrawn to life?

Whatever it would have been, Kakashi was so tired that his limbs barely carried him home, despite having done nothing all day but sit on his couch and stare at the wall, and he felt nothing.

* * *

 

When the Third said he wanted Tsunade to give him her full report of the hospital, she assumed that the presentation would take place in his office with just the two of them. Instead, she was surprised to find out that the presentation would take place in a conference room, and all the elders were to attend.

Though her life was filled with nothing but bizarre things at the moment, it was uniquely bizarre to greet Danzō pleasantly while thinking:

_If all our sedition goes as planned, we’re going to kill you soon, and though I won’t be dealing the final blow, I’m going to enjoy it._

Tsunade understood, now, what Kakashi meant when he said that everyone wanted to kill Danzō. Looking at him, all she could see were the twisted things he had done and would do, all of the death and pain he had caused: to her, to the people she cared about, to Konoha, and to the world. She could not help but wonder what would happen if she tried to kill him now, taking the kunai on her belt and lunging at him. Who could even stop her? They were all trapped in the tiny conference room together, and there would be nowhere to run. She could survive a hundred stab wounds, could cut through most elements, could endure most genjutsu, and could break through most barriers.

She wouldn’t even have to see any blood until it was all over.

However, for all of their sakes, she refrained from committing homicide. Danzō would die soon enough—hopefully legally—and all she had to do was wait it out. So, she greeted all of them as if nothing was the matter and focused on her report.

“In conclusion,” said Tsunade, at the end. “The hospital uses at least one outdated surgical practice, patient confidentiality is sketchy at best, there is absolutely no security, which is a threat to both patients and their already failing confidentiality, and hospital staff training is lacking and disorganized. My official recommendation is to update, organize, and regulate staff training for both new and old personnel, along with adding twenty-four seven security.”

“We hardly have the ninja to spare for a security detail at the hospital,” said Danzō.

“You’re going to have even less if someone breaks in and stabs a recovering jōnin in the night,” said Tsunade.

Her audience of four exchanged glances, communicating silently about something Tsunade could not guess. “Thank you,” said the Third. “Wait for me in my office, please.”

Nodding, she gave her formal goodbyes to the other three and left. No longer having to maintain composure, the moment she entered the Third’s office and shut the door, she pressed her back against the wall and slid down it until she was sitting with her knees to her chest. She ran her fingers through her hair, but it did not make her feel any better, so she just rested her forehead on her kneecaps and took a moment to breath. However, knowing the Third would be back at any moment, she got up off the floor and took a seat in the chair opposite his, as if she was a completely crisis-free individual who had not just had the strong compulsion to murder a high-ranking politician in his own government building.

“That was quite the laundry list you gave us,” said the Third on his return, thankfully alone.

“What can I say?” she asked, as he sat down. “I’m a picky health inspector.”

As if in prayer, he pressed his hands together and rested his chin on his thumbs. He looked at her for a long, piercing moment, searching for something, but she was good at giving nothing. “Are you interested in a promotion?” he asked. “I could use someone to take care of these things.”

It took her several seconds to begin processing the gravity of his request. “What?”

“Hospital Coordinator. I’m offering you the position.”

“Look, I don’t need you to take pity on me—”

“I’m not,” he assured her. “We need one, and despite your…sabbatical, you are still the most qualified person for the position. The elders and I have already agreed to it, if you should choose to take it, and we can talk about it early next week.”

Hospital coordinator sounded like a position that had a lot of paperwork and politics and everything Tsunade hated about medicine. However, she had yet to be able to actually practice medicine, and unless she wanted to start taking D-ranked missions or open up a bar and forget about ninja life altogether, she had nothing else to do. And, it sounded like a good excuse to stay in the village without arousing suspicion.

“Fine,” said Tsunade. “I accept.”

“Good.” The Third smiled at her. “We’re glad to have you back.”

Though she smiled back, it was hard for her to mean it. Danzō was a monster, so irredeemable that Kakashi—the man who was willing to give the guy who both turned his village to dust and personally killed him a second chance—wanted to dispose of him as quickly as possible. But, he was still the Third’s best friend, and here he was, giving her far more trust than she would have deserved even without the assassination plot.

 _I’m going to betray you horribly soon,_ she thought, and then in the smaller, darker part of her brain: _I guess, then, you’ll know how that feels._

“Looking back,” she said, trying to move on from both those things. “If I’m accepting the job, I probably shouldn’t have scared the hell out of the hospital staff, then.”

“You did _what_?”

* * *

 

Tsunade awoke in a pool of blood, and it clung to her like sweat. It was on her hands and in her hair, dripping down her face, and it ran down her arms and legs. Someone was bleeding, she was bleeding, they were bleeding, and Dan’s name was on her lips before she could stop it.

“Lady Tsunade,” said a voice, and there was a blinding light. “What’s wrong?”

After blinking her eyes a few times to remove the blurriness of sleep, Tsunade looked up to see Shizune, whose hand was on the light switch. Tsunade looked down at her own hands and the ends of her hair, and she found them clean. Doing the same to the bedsheets and finding them equally so, Tsunade realized that the blood clinging to her like sweat was, in all actuality, just sweat. The clock read two, which meant that she had only gotten thirty minutes of sleep—not enough to function at acceptable capacity tomorrow.

“Nothing,” she said, getting out of bed, the words coming out as a gasp. “Go back to sleep.”

More than she needed sleep, she needed fresh air. As Shizune’s worried eyes watched her, she threw on her clothes and a pair of shoes, and she grabbed the fifth of vodka out of her suitcase. Used to episodes like this, Shizune knew better than to stop her, but it did not ease her anxiety as Tsunade fled out of the house and into the night.

With nothing else to do, she disguised herself, jumped on top of a house, and drank too much too quickly, desperate to get her dreams out of her head. Not matter how many ounces she consumed, they still wrapped themselves painfully around her, and after a certain point, she knew it was stupid to drink anymore. So, almost involuntarily, she found herself walking elsewhere.

“Hey,” she said, when Kakashi opened the door to his apartment, and she could hear the roughness in her voice. “Can I crash on your couch?”

His emotions were much harder to read now that he was back to wearing a mask, but she knew she must have been irritated to host her so late at night. Still, he nodded and let her in. “Have you been drinking?”

“Not much,” she lied, and she caught sight of the blanket already on the sofa and realized her mistake. “Damn it, I forgot you were already sleeping on the couch. Don’t worry about it. I’ll go—”

“Tsunade,” he said, and she was surprised by the sharpness in his voice. Quickly, though, it softened. “Please, just, stay. I have an extra futon I can sleep on.”

“Okay.” She did not want to fight him on it, truthfully glad that she didn’t have to leave. “Did I wake you up?

“No. I was just about to make tea. Do you want some?”

She nodded and sat down at his kitchen table, folding her arms on the surface and resting her head in the crook of her elbow. Neither talked as they waited for the tea to boil, nor did they break the silence when the kettle whistled, and Kakashi hastily turned off the stove to avoid waking the kids.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, as he brought her a cup and took a set opposite her.

With a raise of her eyebrow, she was surprised by the lack of hesitation in his voice, because there was always hesitation in his voice when he talked about those things—hovering on the line between asking and not. She had no idea what about this moment, about her, made him so concerned above all the other moments. Or, maybe she was just too drunk to notice.

What she did not know was that he had been here before: a middle of the night visit, visible intoxication, a medical-nin he cared about in the depth of trauma. He tried not to remember her sobbing, nor the guilt from her confession, nor the painful phone call he made to Tsunade after she passed out, nor the worry that kept both of them up all night to keep watch over her. Tsunade showing up in a similar condition made a terrified jolt shoot through Kakashi, even in his emptiness. What she did not know was that he, partially in projection and partially to follow through with his promise that he would never make that mistake again, would have easily given much more to try and protect her from her own mind.

Either way, it threw her off so badly that she didn’t even bother to conceal anything.

“Kushina and I went to lunch today,” she said, with a melancholy smile. “She looked good. Happy. And, I took a job. Hiruzen-sensei offered me the position of Hospital Coordinator, and since I have nothing else going for me, I took it. I start next week.”

Probably sensing that there was a “but” somewhere in this story, Kakashi did not comment. “Hiruzen-sensei wanted me to present my report in front of the full council,” she continued. “So, of course, I saw Danzō. All I could think about were the things you told me, and I wanted to kill him. I didn’t, but I just wanted to take a knife and end things right then and there. I knew I wouldn’t even break down until after it was all over, when I could see the blood on my hands.

“I didn’t kill him or let on that anything was wrong, but I could still see the blood on my hands, you know? I dreamed—I dreamed about Kushina bleeding out of stab wounds from the Nine-Tails, and I dreamed about Dan bleeding out underneath my hands, and I dreamed about Hiruzen-sensei bleeding out on a rooftop, and I dreamed about Jiraiya bleeding out alone—” Before she could stop them, a few tears ran down her face, clinging to her like sweat, like blood, and she hastily wiped them away. “—god, I’m sorry; I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

“I would rather you tell me than drink alone,” he said.

“I did lie, earlier,” she said. “I drank too much.”

“I know.”

Still half-collapsed on the table, she gave him a searching look, trying to figure out what was going through his head. “How are you feeling?”

Giving her a shrewd look in return, he unexpectedly gave short, harsh laugh, soft enough that it wouldn’t wake the kids, and he leaned back in his chair. “I feel nothing,” he admitted.

(The Morning After ft. Day Three)

Tsunade awoke to a sudden surge of nausea, and Kakashi awoke to the sound of her sitting up violently on his couch, looking around at her surroundings, and yelling, “Oh, _fuck_.”

“Why do you always do this?” he asked, sitting up just as violently on his futon. Still half-asleep, he checked the clock on his wall. “It’s only ten thirty.” Realizing that they were not still in the Rain and instead were back in a functional life with places to be, his eyes went wide. “Oh my god, it’s ten thirty. Kabuto’s late for school.”

“Relax, it’s a weekend.”

“Oh, _I_ should relax—”

Bursting out of Kakashi’s bedroom, Tenzō and Kabuto, both branding a kunai, gave a unison war cry, making Tsunade and Kakashi jump again.

“Please don’t scream,” she said, rubbing her temples to try and ease her pounding headache.

“Good morning, Tsunade,” said Kabuto cheerfully. “We were coming to protect you.”

“Good morning, Kabuto.” Groaning, she peeled herself off the couch and looked back towards Kakashi. “Can I use your shower, so I look a little less like I’m doing the walk of shame back into the Third’s house?”

“Sure. There’s an extra toothbrush in the mirror, if you want it.”

“What’s the walk of shame?” asked Kabuto.

Kakashi glared at Tsunade, who might have laughed if she didn’t feel so hungover.

“Remember when we had that conversation about adult words?” he asked. “That you can’t say until you turn eighteen?”

“Like ‘fuck?’” asked Tenzō.

“Yes. Just add that one to the list.”

Tsunade only just managed to lock the door to the bathroom behind her and turn on the shower to drown out the sound before throwing up.

_Fuck up._

* * *

 

Knowing where Shizune was staying, Rin went to the Hokage Residence and asked the ANBU guard if she could see her. He disappeared into the house and returned with Shizune a few moments later.

“Hey,” said Rin. “Since I can leave my apartment now, my friend Obito and I are going to lunch. Do you want to come along?”

“You want me to go to lunch?” asked Shizune, raising her eyebrows in disbelief.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” said Rin, thinking she had somehow offended her. “I understand.”

“No, it’s not that,” said Shizune quickly. “Just, you know, last night, I was replaying our conversation in my head, and I realized that I went on a rant out of nowhere about how stupid your friend was, and I kind of expected that you’d never want to see me again.”

Grinning at Shizune’s awkwardness, growing fond of it, Rin took her hand. “Boys _are_ stupid. C’mon, I want you to meet Obito. He’s really nice.”

“Okay.” Shizune smiled. “If you’re sure he won’t mind.”

“He won’t. Just, um, don’t ask about his family. Not today. Apparently they’ve had some clan issues this morning, and he’s irritated that no one will tell him what’s going on.”

(Interlude—Do You Remember Me?)

In another lifetime, three months into his solo stint as Hokage, Kakashi turned to Tsunade and said, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I hate you.”

She threw her head back and laughed, and already, he noticed his recollections of her were beginning to merge. He could not be sure if her smile in the memory belonged to the then-her, or if belonged to the now-her, retroactively pasted on. When he talked to her in this new life, he was not sure if he was staring straight through her to the Tsunade from another lifetime, or if he viewed the Tsunade in his memories as the copycat.

Everything else from his past still felt like they were firmly _his_ : _his_ Village, _his_ citizens of Konoha, _his_ loved ones, _his_ team. However, she was the first thing that was starting to shift, where he was not sure which version of her belonged to him. Perhaps, more horrifyingly, which he preferred to belong.

Jiraiya, he suspected, would soon follow. As time when on and the shock of the new world began to fade, others inevitably would too. In one year, five years, ten years, he was not sure what might even be left. Some of it would be welcome (replacing his perception of Kabuto, in particular), but most of it had him desperately clinging on to the swiftly slipping shreds of his other life.

“The Land of Lightning?” she guessed.

“Isn’t it always?” He remembered smiling, then, despite his frustration. “I didn’t do anything stupid this time, though, so kindly keep away from my dining table.”

“You’re no fun.” Smirking, she took a sip of whatever they were already a few drinks into. Looking back, it seemed vaguely like it might have been whiskey; she got a craving for it occasionally, and he usually preferred it. Or, maybe, he had just been wishing it was whiskey. “So, you’ve replaced it?”

“For its own safety, I will neither confirm nor deny your line of questioning.”

“Given your track record, I suppose I’ll see soon enough.”

“You know, one of these days,” he said. “I’m hoping the ANBU guard will bother to try and stop you from breaking into my house.”

“You know they couldn’t,” she said.

“Yes, but it would be nice to see them _attempt_.”

She rolled her eyes. “Look on the bright side, to all of this. At least you’re not dealing with Kaguya.”

“Is that in reference to the Land of Lightning or to you?” She had grinned, and he told himself, thinking back, that she looked exactly the same the entire time that he’d known her, so of _course_ her grin in his memories would look like their grin now. “Do you think we’ll say that for the rest of our lives? ‘At least we’re not dealing with Kaguya?’”

“If there was ever a thing to repeat, it’s that.” When he hummed in agreement, she tossed back the last of her drink and continued: “Alright, you’ve got me drunk enough to be agreeable. Was there a request for advice at the end of this, or did you just want to reminisce about your furniture?”

“The former, unfortunately.”

He could not, now, remember exactly what she told him, or even what his problem with the Land of the Lightning was in the first place. The memory seemed so far away, too far away, and in the other lifetime, it would not have bothered him. Being Hokage was a blur of problems and people throwing advice and consultations his way, and he was not as young as he once was. It was only natural that some things would run together and be forgotten. But, now, he tried with frantic desperation to recall all the details.

“Now,” she said, getting up to leave once she’d said her piece. “Don’t bother me again. I am retired, you know.”

“Look on the bright side,” he said, with a grin. “At least you’re not dealing with Kaguya.” But, he did promise her that he would forever leave her alone, with all the sincerity like they didn’t both know he was lying.

He swore, as he pictured her leaving, her eyes were less hardered and tired than they should have been—a little too vulnerable.

(The Morning After ft. Day Four)

Right after Kakashi put Tenzō back to bed after his three-thirty ritual, right after Kakashi began to toy with the idea of trying to sleep for the first time that night, his musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. Worried it might be Tsunade again, he opened it to find Mikoto and Itachi Uchiha standing on the other side of it.

“You’re Kakashi Hatake, right?” she asked, to which he nodded, trying to blink the foggy exhaustion out of his eyes. “Sorry to bother you so late. I’m Mikoto Uchiha, once of the Uchiha clan’s elders. Itachi—have you met Itachi?—said Kabuto was one of his classmates.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Kakashi, though he narrowed his eyes just a tad, passing it off as sleepiness. Part of him wondered if he had, in fact, fallen asleep and was in the middle of a dream. However, he did not trust the thought nor the situation at hand, and he hesitated before opening the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”

She nodded. As she and Itachi stepped into his living room and he caught sight of her in the light, he became certain that something had gone very wrong. Mikoto was as poised as ninja were taught to be, but her hair was tousled like she’d ran her hair through it a few too many times and forgot to brush it back, and her posture was too straight and overcompensating. On the other hand, Itachi looked no different than the average, sleepy four-year-old.

“I _am_ sorry to bother you,” she said. “But is it alright if Itachi stays here for a night or two? I asked Itachi who some of his classmates were, and Kabuto was the first name he mentioned.” She switched to mouthing her words, so Itachi wouldn’t hear. “One of our elders died this morning. My husband and I have a lot to take care of and don’t want him to be there for that.”

“Of course,” said Kakashi, before mouthing: “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “If you don’t mind, maybe don’t take him outside the apartment tomorrow. I’m sure people will be talking.”

Striding across the room to his bedroom door, Kakashi knocked on it several times. “Tenzō, Kabuto, wake up.”

A moment later, Tenzō opened the door, rubbing his eyes. “I thought I already woke up for the night.”

“It’s not that,” said Kakashi. “Tenzō, this is Mrs. Uchiha. Her son, Itachi, is going to be staying with us for a couple nights. Will you help me set up the extra futon?”

“Itachi’s here?” asked Kabuto, appearing in the doorway, somehow bright-eyed despite the lateness of the hour.

“Yes. Now, help me, won’t you?”

As Kakashi took out the futon he had slept on the night before and handed its corresponding sheets to Tenzō, Mikoto made a solid show of looking like she wasn’t impatiently waiting to bolt. She helped Kakashi set up the futon in his bedroom, next to Kabuto, and she waited until all the kids were settled before kissing Itachi goodbye on the top of his head.

With one last, sincere thanks, she was back out into the night, leaving Kakashi with a sense of impending doom.

Obviously, there was something wrong with the picture, something more than she was letting on. If one of the Uchiha elders had died a normal death, there wasn’t a reason that Itachi couldn’t have stayed with one of the other, less busy Uchihas, where Mikoto and Fugaku could have kept a better eye on him. Even if, for whatever reason, the entire clan was unavailable for babysitting duty, bringing Itachi to Kakashi’s place was a bafflingly random choice. Itachi and Kabuto had only been classmates for a single school day.

After pressing his ear to his bedroom door to make sure the kids were quiet and sleeping as they should, Kakashi hasted towards his kitchen cupboard and threw away all the food they could spare. When that was gone, he grabbed random objects to chunk: blank sheets of paper, his entire calendar (the year old had a little over a month left, anyway), and a clean roll of toilet paper. For lack of anything else, he started throwing away fluffed-up garbage bags.

Once it reached the size he wanted, Kakashi put his hands together, made a shadow clone, and handed off the garbage bag. Under the guise of taking out the trash, the clone went outside to case the area around the apartment.

Immediately, Kakashi noticed one Uchha hanging right outside, likely vetting all those who entered the building. As he inconspicuously looked around at the the best vantage points for the a good view of the building as he walked around back to the dumpster, he found four more Uchiha further out, watching the north, south, east, and west faces of the structure. But, they only alarmed him slightly more than his interaction with Mikoto. It only confirmed that something was, indeed, very wrong.

What _really_ bothered him was the two ROOT members hovering across the street.

If Kakashi had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have noticed. It wasn’t as if ROOT members advertised their presence, and they were doing a fine job of pretending like they belonged at the all-hours coffee shop they were stationed at. But, Kakashi was too familiar with ROOT and the ANBU and the government of Konoha in general, and though he did not let them in on the secret, he immediately made them.

Experimentally, he made his way down to the twenty-four-hour convenience store down the street, without attempting to hide his presence. He needed to replace the food he had just tossed, anyway. Once he moved far enough down the road, one of the ROOT members got up and leisurely walked down the streets towards him in a slow pursuit, while the other remained behind, eyes fixed on his apartment building.

To seem casual, Kakashi did not quicken his pace or change his posture. But, the moment he ducked into the convenience store, out of the ROOT member’s line of sight, he ducked behind one of the shelves so the half-asleep cashier wouldn’t see and cloned himself once more. With an equal amount of haste, he disguised his new clone as a middle-aged, bespectacled man and sent it to sneak into the back room. That way, his first clone could buy some groceries and come back to the apartment within a reasonable amount of time, leaving the Uchiha and the ROOT ninja none the wiser.

The second clone managed to escape through the back door of the shop as planned, into the next street over, without being followed, and the real him ran his thumb over the kunai that he’d kept on his person since their return home. The weapon’s hilt was adorned with three straight grooves, running from bottom to blade. A contraption similar to something both he and Jiraiya had used on past missions, the knife was connected to identical versions belonging to Jiraiya and Tsunade and could be used to silently and covertly pass rudimentary messages between the three of them.

Moving his index finger over the groove that belonged to him, he lightly sketched in several markings to activate the jutsu: two short lines, two longs, and three more shorts.

 _Something’s wrong_ , the lines conveyed. _Being watched. Meet at the safe house._

* * *

If Tsunade wasn’t already awake at three-thirty, holding her flask in her hand after a series of nightmares knocked the desire to sleep out of her and debating whether to drink from it, the sudden commotion in the bottom floor of the Third’s home would have woken her. Just as she contemplated moving to figuring out if it was something she needed to give a damn about, a knock on her and Shizune’s guest door took the choice from her. After throwing on a coat, she opened the door to find the Third standing on the other side of it.

“I need you to start your position a day early,” said the Third. “Get dressed and meet me at my office.”

With dread pooling in her stomach, she did as he asked, arriving just shy of fifteen minutes later.

“What happened?” she asked, as he hunched over his desk, shuffling through a stack of papers.

“A few weeks ago, Yoichiro Uchiha, one of the clan’s jōnin, son of two of their elders, Emon and Hiromu, was diagnosed with porphyria.” The Third paused as if that was supposed to have some significance to her. She knew what porphyria was—a genetic disorder relating to a certain type of blood pigments—but why the diagnoses mattered was beyond her.

“...is he dead?” asked Tsunade, after he said nothing for several seconds, trying to figure out what he was getting at.

“He’s not the dead one, no; it’s his mother. Since the Uchiha are genetically... _close_ , and they like to keep it that way, both the hospital and the clan agreed that it would be wise to test the DNA of both his parents, to figure out which one it came from. However, it turned out that it came from neither. Though Hiromu is Yoichiro’s biological mother, Emon, unbeknownst to anyone else but Hiromu, presumably, is not his biological father.”

“Did Emon kill her?”

The Third shook his head. “Due to the scandal, she killed herself about an hour ago.”

“So, where’s the catch?” asked Tsunade, growing impatient. A suicide, no matter how tragic, was not enough to cause this much of a bustle on its own.

“Yoichiro was the one who found her body, and he took is very poorly. He blamed the clan for her death, and after threatening to kill all of the elders to avenge his mother, he fled the village and hasn’t been seen since. For the safety of everyone involved, we’re taking his threats seriously. I’ve marked him as a missing-nin and sent a squad to chase after him.”

Though Tsunade was not truly connected to the previous timeline, only vaguely associate through Kakashi’s memories that tethered her halfway between here and there, she put together the implication almost instantly. After all, it was what they had been bracing themselves for since the beginning. How many nights had she watched Kakashi wake from an endless cycle of nightmares, from refraining from sleep in the first place, all to avoid the image of the one thing that still terrified him most.

_The Masked Man._

“I see,” said Tsunade, trying to keep her voice even. “And, just to keep us on the same page, we don’t think the Uchiha killed her themselves, right?”

“We do not,” said the Third. “The Uchiha are a traditionally private people. So private that they’ve hidden the heir to their clan, Itachi, away in a place kept secret even from us. They don’t trust the ANBU, only their own people, which we’ve respected in their hour of grief. So protective that they handle, and have always handled, their own autopsies. This entire thing has turned into a spectacle for them. Why would a clan that private fake a suicide, which tend to always be public dramas, rather than fake something else and forge their autopsy records to reflect a quieter cause of death, like a stroke?

“Plus, when he questioned them, Fugaku informed us that they handled the whole thing diplomatically yesterday. They had a large meeting amongst all the elders and other important members of the clan, and they agreed that she would be forced to resign from her position on the Uchiha council. That would have been a conspicuous gesture if they planned on turning right around and killing her.”

The Third folded his hands on his desk. “Still, their continued secrecy isn’t doing anything to help their case. I believe them, of course, but my opinion won’t be widely shared. If they were to put a little more faith in us, perhaps the village would talk less.”

Knowing that the Uchiha were right in their paranoias about the village higher ups, Tsunade could not blame them for their secrecy. In their shoes, she would hide her son far out of sight from them, too, and shield her family from any perceived threats she might fancy. Though she and Kushina had only been reunited for a couple days, Tsunade was already itching to kill Danzō and commit treason for her.

“What is this project you have for me?” she asked, not wanting to dwell on the topic.

“I need to know what we’re dealing with, with Yoichiro. Since Hiromu is dead, she can’t tell us. Is there a way to determine who is biological father actually is?”

“Did the hospital run his entire DNA strand?” The Third nodded. “Then, it’s possible. I can do my best, at least.”

Just as he gave his undeserved assurance that he had the utmost confidence in her, Tsunade felt a sudden burst of heat against her leg, radiating from the kunai resting on her thigh. Like it was designed, it was just hot enough to be noticeable, even in sleep, but not enough to do damage. Subtly, she put her hands in her pockets like she was resting her arms and brushed her fingers across the etchings in the kunai. Jiraiya’s line was blank, but Kakashi’s contained several dashes.

 _Something’s wrong. Being watched. Meet at safehouse_.

Instead of etching back her confirmation code, she repeated his exact lines: two shorts, two longs, and three more shorts, conveying:

 _I know_.

* * *

Jiraiya was half-asleep, leaned over the first few pages of what would hopefully become his next manuscript, when a knock on his door roused him. Sleep deprived, he was tempted to ignore it and instead drag himself to bed, leaving behind the last paragraph he had written in an attempt to create something sexy:

_When her arms did not remove themselves from his neck, he found himself unable to will his hands to remove themselves from her waist, tracing small circles with his thumbs against her bare sides, where her shirt had teasingly ridden upward. Time slowed to a crawl, as if the universe was giving him one last chance to not do something foolish that he couldn’t go back from. Suddenly acutely aware of where he was and who he was holding on to, he did not make eye contact with contact with her. He knew the moment he did, when he glanced down at her wanting, blue eyes looking coyly up at him, the last remnants of his self control would vanish._

However, whoever was at his door at four in the morning likely had a good reason, so when the knock came again, he willed his legs over to it. Glancing out the peephole in his door, he saw a ninja he did not recognize standing on the other side of it, which was not an unusual circumstance. But, the moment the door opened, the ninja’s disguise dropped, and Danzō was standing on his welcome mat.

A few cruel seconds too late, he felt the burn of his kunai against his leg. Casually sticking his hands in his pockets, he grazed his fingers over Kakashi’s lines.

_Something’s wrong. Being watched. Meet at safehouse._

“Danzō,” greeted Jiraiya, putting on a tired smile. “How can I help you this morning?”

Tumbling right after Kakashi’s, a message appeared on Tsunade’s line.

_Something’s wrong. Being watched. Meet at safehouse._

“Jiraiya,” said Danzō, returning the greeting. “I find myself in need of your services.”

Though Jiraiya’s smile and relaxed demeanor did not waver, only blurred naturally by the exhaustion of the early hour, he did not return his confirmation message. Instead, he repeated their warnings: two shorts, two longs, and three more shorts, conveying:

_Fuck._

* * *

Disguised, Tsunade’s shadow clone used her key to get into their “safehouse,” a spare apartment of Jiraiya’s off Tenth Street. It was empty when she arrived, her only company the spare littering of furniture that existed to keep up appearances. But, given how much time had passed since their message exchange, she suspected it was not as empty as it seemed.

“You know,” she said aloud, using one of their slew of codewords. “I’m looking forward to Sakura season.”

“So am I,” said a male voice. Tsunade did not know where he had been hiding, but a middle-aged man appeared in the middle of the room from seemingly nowhere. She knew immediately that he was Kakashi and not Jiraiya. For starters, he did not bother making his disguise particularly attractive or tall, which were two of Jiraiya’s biggest tells. And, there was a momentary twinge of _something_ at the word ‘Sakura.’ “More than you know.”

“Jiraiya not here, yet?” asked Tsunade. Kakashi shook his head. “How much do you know?”

“I know an Uchiha elder is dead,” said Kakashi. “I know Itachi is staying at my apartment—”

“They put Itachi with you?” asked Tsunade, raising her eyebrows.

“—I know ROOT is watching me.” He gave her an odd look, already suspecting that she knew a lot more than he did.

“ROOT is watching you?” she asked, just as baffled

“Clearly, we’ve had a different past few hours,” said Kakashi. “What do _you_ know?”

As quickly as they could, they swapped their respective experiences.

“Well,” said Kakashi. “It could be a lot worse. If Black Zetsu does choose him, we already know his face. We know his agenda. Only one person has died yet.” Tsunade raised her eyebrow, and he backtracked apologetically, for the callous way he spoke about the mixing of his past and their futures. “Though a tragedy, only one person is dead, which is better than last time.”

“It could be worse,” she agreed. “Plus, he’s sick with something incurable. He might be able to control it, if he finds a good doctor and a streak of luck, but it will certainly slow him down if he can’t.”

Tilting his head, Kakashi pressed his lips into a frown as he took a moment to examine her. “You can still tap out, you know.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’ve barely done anything,” he said. “Incriminating, at least. You could still tap out and reasonably pretend that you never heard anything.”

Folding her arms, she gave him a piercing look in turn, though hers veered on icy. “You’ve got some nerve, thinking you could have dragged me around three countries if I wasn’t in.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just putting it on the table.”

“Fuck you,” she said, but it was an affectionate gesture of resolve, and he grinned like he might have in another life, with maybe-whiskey in their hands—both smiling despite the crushing stress and gravity of their situation.

This time, as he looked at her, he noticed that her smile definity belonged to now-her, younger and a bit more mischievous, yet a bit more uncertain. The mirror to another life, to which it had once belonged, had closed, and he was worried he would lose his grip on what then-her even looked like. All of it belonged to the same person, but it was the eyes and the smile that were the most jarring, both much warmer and friendlier than her previous counterpart.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but Kakashi held up his finger to his own, silencing her. Kakashi motioned for her to go to the bathroom to hide, while he ducked behind the kitchen counter for cover. After a few moments, she understood why; she heard footsteps coming up the final flight of stairs and down the hallway towards the apartment.

“Hidan, or some shit,” said Jiraiya, after opening the door and slamming it behind him.

“Kakuzu,” said Kakashi and Tsunade in unison, breathing a sigh of relief.

Once she left the bathroom to meet him—well, his disguise, which looked a bit like a slightly better looking and taller version of Kakashi’s persona—in the living room, and Kakashi came out of the kitchen, she said, “Where _were_ you?”

“Trust me, my lateness wasn’t by choice,” said Jiraiya. “I was dealing with Danzō.”

For the first time, there was a slip in Kakashi’s calm facade, a brief moment where he looked like he had been punched in the stomach and was falling through the floor. It was gone so fast, though, that if Jiraiya and Tsunade hadn’t known better, they might have thought they imagined it. “What happened?”

“He was ‘in need of my services,’” said Jiraiya. “Wait, what do you know?” Quickly, Kakashi and Tsunade caught him up to speed. “Okay, I knew most of that. Not about Itachi, but everything else. Danzō wants dirt on the Uchiha. Whether or not they’re involved with Hiromu’s suicide, he doesn’t care; he just wants something.”

“I hate to say it,” said Tsunade. “Because I’m not condoning it, but I’m starting to understand why the Uchiha might have wanted to stage a coup. In another clan, this would have been a tragedy, but because it’s them, people are already trying to use it as an excuse to cut them down. It would make me paranoid and worried about my family, too.”

“I know,” said Kakashi. “And I owe it to Sasuke to figure it out, but the question of ‘how to defuse racial tension’ is probably a matter for another time.”

“What should be our first question is,” said Jiraiya. “Do we go after him?”

“It wouldn’t be wise,” said Kakashi, after a moment of thought. “Like you said, Zetsu’s one step ahead of us. If he wants Yoichiro, he’s going to take him, us be damned. We have to spend our energy getting our own pieces in line, so that once it’s time to play, we’re as close to evenly matched as possible. We should continue as planned.”

“Okay, second question,” said Jiraiya. “Why the hell is Itachi Uchiha at your apartment?”

“Hiruzen-sensei said that the Uchiha didn't want the ANBU involved,” said Tsunade. “But, almost anyone else they could have left Itachi with would have insisted when they found a vengeful jōnin might be coming after them. Maybe they thought Kakashi, the seeming thirteen-year-old, wouldn’t. Plus, he’s Minato’s former student, which makes him at least a little trustworthy in their eyes. Mikoto and Kushina are close.”

“Not to mention, I’m out of the way,” said Kakashi. “If not with the Uchiha, the next place Yoichiro would look is some of the other clan houses, where there would be lots of ninja to guard him. Why would he ever think to check a random thirteen-year-old’s?”

“So, by attempting to choose the most non-obvious person,” said Jiraiya irritably. “They managed to accidentally pick the most fucking obvious person. If this screws us over with Danzō—”

“It won’t,” said Kakashi, though he wasn’t sure if it was just wishful thinking. “It _won’t_. We just need to accept that we’ll all be watched more heavily from now on and move accordingly.”

“We need to have regular, non-suspicious, public interactions, so that the times we need to meet up to be productive, it seems normal,” said Jiraiya, before turning to Kakashi. “You and I need to start training every morning in one of the public training fields close to the village, and you’ll have to turn down your abilities. Also, I need you to give me an envelope with your teleportation seal on it.” He turned to Tsunade. “You and I need to start having drinks once or so a week and taking Minato and Kushina out to dinner.”

Tsunade looked like she was going to comment on that, but decided against it. “So, what _is_ our current play?”

Noting that both Tsunade and Jiraiya were looking at him and waiting, Kakashi realized that he was being elected as their planner. “You need to figure out who Yoichiro’s biological father is,” said Kakashi to Tsunade. “But, if it’s too interesting, you need to keep it yourself. I don’t want Danzō have that information. Is there any way you can throw them off the trail?”

“I can,” she said.

“Jiraiya, I need you to deliver a message to Fugaku. Tell him that ROOT is watching the entire clan and my apartment. Tell them to watch their backs and watch them for a while.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Jiraiya. “If we do this, we’re making our hostilities to Danzō public, as limited as that publicness is.”

“I do,” said Kakashi. “Tsunade’s right. Last time, they held a coup because the village was looking to take them down at every opportunity. We need to tell them that they at least have one ally in the village. They’ll keep that secret to themselves. And, if the new masked man’s goals are to take them down, for our protection and theirs, we need them on our side, and they need us.”

“If you’re certain,” said Jiraiya, conceding that, as Hokage, Kakashi probably had a better grasp on village relations than he did.

“As for what you should tell Danzō, tell him…” Kakashi thought for the moment. “Tell him that Fugaku is gunning for the Hokage position. It’s small enough that there’s not a lot Danzō could do about it, as it’s not like he’s in the running anyway, but it still looks like you tried.

“I’ll go talk to Obito this afternoon. There’s a chance he overheard something that no one else has told us, yet. Otherwise, we keep our heads down and act like this has no real significance to any of us. Any questions?”

As he said those words, Kakashi’s spine straightened. Where before there was a dash of panic, there was no only confidence and authority, and the tone of his voice became deeper and firmer. For a minute, Jiraiya and Tsunade realized that they were speaking with the Sixth Hokage, and it had the second-hand effect of making them feel more confident about the situation. Both shook their heads at his question.

“Very well,” said Kakashi. “Then, break.”

In unison, the three of them dispersed their shadow clones, leaving the apartment empty once more.

* * *

Now just one person instead of two, Kakashi stood up from his chair at the kitchen table, where he had rested as his clone spoke to Jiraiya and Tsunade. As he attempted to rub the exhaustion from his eyes, his movements felt sluggish, like he was in a dream. The clock on the wall read six.

_With a blow, the masked cracked, and orange gave way to skin. There was a moment of unrecognition, like a man missing an ever-growing tidal wave rising behind his back, before the water crashed over him, slamming him into the ground, drowning him. He was older and the eyes were all wrong, but the face was all too familiar._

It’s him, _he thought, and then_ : Please not him.

Dragging his legs, Kakashi tried to make his way over to the couch, but he was not sure if it was taking him seconds or minutes or hours. Where there had been the Sixth Hokage only moments before, in another apartment, now there was just a weary soldier struggling to breath.

_“Look!” said Obito. “There is nothing in my heart! I don’t even feel pain! You don’t have to feel guilty, Kakashi. This windhole was opened by this hell of a world.”_

Kakashi sat down, trying to process everything, to accept that the real game had perhaps finally started. If Kaguya did choose Yoichiro, life just got far more dangerous and unpredictable, but so sickeningly familiar.

_Before anyone could hold him back, Kakashi managed to bolt over to the bodies of the Fourth Hokage and his wife, covered as they were as the ANBU tried to sneak them to the morgue._

_“Let me see,” begged Kakashi, his voice cracking. “Let me see.”_

_Whether or not anyone wanted it (though, he suspected, they were allowing him this one mercy as one of their own, because the ANBU, unlike the others, did not try and stop him), Kakashi folded back the coverings to take a last look at his sensei and his wife: the only father figure he’d had in so long and the woman Kakashi was supposed to protect. Their bodies were mangled, torn, and covered in blood, but their faces were at peace, like they were sleeping. Just like that, the very last of his family was gone, leaving him alone in the unforgiving world._

Desperately, he tried to hold himself together, tried to reign himself in, because the world needed him. Jiraiya and Tsunade, his only friends in this life, needed him. He was worried about how they would stomach the news, and he knew he needed to take charge in this situation. Now was not the time for this—maybe next month, or next week, or maybe even tomorrow, but not today. There was too much to do today, and he begged his thoughts to stop just for a moment. He was already nearly useless in this life, losing all of his societal sway and abilities. The only thing he had left was his knowledge and the mental clarity to use it.

_The earth split open and swallowed everyone whole, trapping them in a Land of Dream, far out of reach. All except the four of them, somehow both the most miserable people on the planet and yet the only four still truly alive. It was just them and the end of the world, now, and their legs shook as they tried to balance the weight of the fate of all things on their shoulders. Three students with determined eye and brave hearts, looking a looming infinity straight in the face and taking a step forward anyway._

“Please, stop,” he whispered, in the dark.

* * *

Kakashi awoke to a load bang, the smell of bacon, and a little voice saying, “Quiet, you’ll wake Kakashi!”

With a gasping breath, he bolted upwards, not remembering falling asleep. Pulse pacing, he glanced over the couch to look at the clock; it was nine-thirty in the morning, which could have been worse. He’d only slept for three hours, which meant that he probably hadn’t missed anything too significant. Memories of another life, of another war, thudding in his brain almost as painfully as his heart in his chest, he leapt off the couch and peeked through the blinds on the windows. There were likely people watching, always watching, like faceless, nameless, white figures marching over their front lines, swarming their armies—

“Kakashi?”

“Yes?” he asked, looking over to the three kids in the kitchen, half expecting to see a different set of faces, faces he yearned for. But, all his saw was a line of black and silver and a pair of killer eyes staring back at him as their owner clenched his fist, raising the dead from the ground—

Taking a deep breath, Kakashi got a grip on himself. He was not currently facing the Fourth Ninja World War; he was in his apartment. There weren’t any killers, only baby faces with innocent eyes, all depending on him to not throw his sanity out the window this morning.

“Yeah, sorry,” said Kakashi, forcing his tone to be breezy. He realized that he was reaching for the kunai on his bult and hastily yanked his hand back. “You just startled me, is all.”

“We were making breakfast for you,” said Kabuto, an uncharacterized frown on his face. “We wanted to let you sleep because you looked really tired, but I accidentally dropped the pan. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Kakashi forced as smile and ruffled his hair. “Let’s see what we can salvage.”

As he expected, neither Tenzō nor Kabuto dwelled on his tense awakening, used to it from him and the other members of the company they kept. Itachi looked at him with a childlike, suspicious curiosity, but as he taught them how to properly make breakfast, it faded.

Though their first attempt at cooking was a sweet gesture and if they had successfully finished he would have eaten it out of kindness, but it was slightly a disaster. Even if Kabuto had not dropped the pan, dumping all the grease and the bacon onto the floor, they had put way too much in the pan in the first place, and most of it was burnt. However, he did not chastise them for it, instead just patiently walking all three of them through how to make bacon and eggs.

As Itachi had just lost an aunt, even if he had not been told yet, making them do homework first thing in the morning felt like poor taste. Instead, he took one of their remaining rolls of toilet paper and some tape, and began taping haphazard, close-together strips between the wall by the door and its opposite.

“New ninja game,” said Kakashi, causing Tenzō’s and Kabuto’s eyes to brighten. “Your goal is to start by the kitchen and get to the other side, without touching any of the toilet paper. First one to do it wins.”

Yet to shake the habit, Kabuto and Tenzō locked eyes, before turning back to the toilet paper maze, giving a war cry, and getting one foot in before they both tripped. On another day, Kakashi might have laughed.

“Okay, once more, but a _little_ slower,” said Kakashi, fixing back the toilet paper that was yanked from the wall. “Itachi, how about you try?”

“Do I have to yell?” asked Itachi, looking up at Kakashi with furrowed eyebrows.

“Please don’t.”

For most of the morning, he supervised their giggling attempts to jump through the obstacle course, and increased the difficulty when they got too close to completely it, much to their protests, just for something to do. Anything was better than silence. They were not the three kids he most wanted to see, who haunted his dreams, but they were the three kids he owed to give a better life. To find any use in that morning—knowing that Hokage Kakashi was long gone, and Jiraiya and Tsunade were doing far more important things than waiting around in an apartment—it was all he could do.

* * *

For breakfast, Tsunade had shots of grape vodka in the shower. It tasted like cough syrup and despair.

“Why the hell did I buy this?” asked Tsunade, wrinkling her nose at the bottle. But, she did not put it away, just sat it on the floor of the shower as she washed her hair. One did not drink vodka at six in the morning for taste.

Most would consider it trashy at best to pregame their first day of work, but she supposed it was rather in character for her. Besides if no one knew about it (and she was excellent at hiding it), there was no harm. _Probably._

Sometimes, life was just a bit more stressful than she could bear. Sometimes, it was a little too easy to look at a drink and wonder that she could stop feeling everything, anything, for a little while. Sometimes, she took it.

It tasted like cough syrup and despair, with an unwelcome aftertaste of regret.

“Why the hell did I buy this?” she repeated, setting it down once more.

She assumed Kakashi and Jiraiya were, at least partially, more affected than their demeanors in the apartment let on. They were too good of ninja not to hide it. Still, she worried that she was the only one panicking, the only one fragile enough to be shaken by everything hanging over them. The only one unable to handle what she ought to have been emotionally bracing herself for since the beginning.

She wondered how much more palpable the other timeline would feel after they assassinated Danzō. She was desperate to kill him, not only so the people she cared about would be safe, but just so something would feel real. So she would be one step closer to becoming used to the future. So that words like Kaguya, the Masked Man, Zetsu, and the Fourth Ninja World War could roll off her tongue with some degree of matter-of-factness. So she could feel like something was getting done to stop the oncoming rockslide barreling towards them.

Washing out the last of the shampoo, she couldn’t shake how broken she felt. Useless. Kakashi was out there sorting through everything to pick their next moves, and Jiraiya was carefully making allies and playing their enemies. But, she was just a woman in a shower with some god-awful vodka and a set of DNA records in the hospital, the latter of which could be impossible to solve, useless in the grand scheme of things, or both.

She turned off the water and took one last drink. Taking a minute to let it settle, it tasted like cough syrup and nothing more.

With a sigh of relief, she poured the rest of the bottle down the sink and brushed the taste of it from her teeth, repeating the process several times so no one could smell it on her breath. Coffee would be needed once she arrived at the hospital, both to disguise the scent and wake her up.

She examined her face in the mirror. Her dark circles were deeper than she liked, but with a jutsu, her eyes were once again bright, lashes long and dark, and cheeks only faintly pink, like she had been sleeping properly. Like she hadn’t just drank in the shower.

“Alright,” she said, lightly slapping herself in the face to wake up. “You can do this.”

Confident in her appearance, she left the bathroom and tried to ignore that it sounded like a lie.

* * *

Jiraiya felt like he was wading through molasses as he walked to the Uchiha compound, a melon with a card attached under his arm, all his energy zapped by the Yoichiro reveal. There would never be a good day to deal with it, but he was coming up with all sorts of excuses as to why this day was particularly bad: the weather was nice, he was hitting his stride on the opening of his novel, they had just gotten back to Konoha, and the list went on. The mental exercise was almost enough to distract himself from how shaken he felt.

He pushed it out of his mind: Minato’s and Kushina’s deaths out of his mind, the collapsed of Konoha from his mind, the end of the world from his mind. It was nothing he couldn’t handle. Pushing Minato’s and Kushina’s torn bodies from his mind was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“Hello, Jiraiya,” said the unfamiliar, Uchiha woman who opened the main, Uchiha clan house, after he’d knocked on the door. Her tone was polite, her her tense, sad smile did not reach her sleep deprived eyes. “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” he said, putting on a charming smile. He briefly entertained the idea of flirting with her to warm him up to her, but he felt like it was the wrong time. “I need to speak to Fugaku, when he’s got a minute.”

“I’m not sure he’ll have time today,” she said apologetically. “You have to understand, he’s occupied at the moment. We’re all quite busy—”

He leaned in closer. “Tell Fugaku that it’s important I speak to him personally and soon.”

There were many benefits of being one of the Sannin, the first of which was that people took statements like that seriously. She disappeared back in the house for a couple minutes, leaving him standing awkwardly in the doorway, before returning and leading him inside.

Jiraiya had never been inside the Uchiha main house, but was unsurprised to find it pristine, elegant, and well decorated. The Uchiha symbol was ornately displayed on everything, painted on the art hanging on the walls, littered across decorative pieces, and engraved into furniture. Several of their clan members hurried around the twisted walls, talking in hushed tones, and eyeing him with surprise and suspicion.

He was eventually dumped inside a sitting room, just a pretty as the other rooms in the house, decorated in black, white, and red. His guide assured him that Fugaku would be with him soon and left him alone. ‘Soon’ turned out to be over thirty minutes.

“Jiraiya,” greeted Fugaku, shutting the door behind him and gesturing for Jiraiya to sit in one of the chairs. “Forgive the delay. We weren’t expecting you.”

“Sorry for intruding,” said Jiraiya. “And for your loss.” Smiling kindly, Jiraiya held out the melon in his arms. “It’s not much, but I brought you this consolatory gift.”

If Fugaku thought the gift choice was odd, he didn’t show it. Accepting it with a thanks, Fugaku opened the envelope taped to the side, read the card over, and burnt it to ashes as soon as he was finished.

_Danzō is spying on your entire family, including Kakashi’s apartment. Watch your backs._

Still expressionless, Fugaku looked at Jiraiya for a long moment before continuing, “This melon is in good condition for this time of year. Where did you find it?”

Suspecting he was not, in actuality, talking about the melon, Jiraiya said, “A fruit stand I do business with on occasion.”

_Danzō._

“Only on occasion?”

Jiraiya nodded. “Today happened to be one of those days, I guess.”

“And do you trust the fruit stand?” Fugaku placed the melon beside him on the end table. “You know, their...product.”

“Honestly, no,” said Jiraiya, leaning back in the chair comfortably. “They’ve been a little shady, lately. Lots of the fruit’s been rotten. Frankly, I think it’s time another stand took its place.”

Fugaku’s expression remained neutral as he continued to examine him, but he was no doubt wondering if this was some kind of trap. Jiraiya kept his expression pleasant, as if they really were discussing fruit, but he was both doubting the situation and himself. Though Kakashi did have hesitations about trusting Fugaku, he ultimately decided they should go for it, but Jiraiya was not as confident. At the moment, Jiraiya was having problems trusting anyone. Even so, without being able to leave Konoha, Jiraiya felt useless. Tsunade was able to put her high intellect and medical knowledge to good use and Kakashi was playing multi-dimensional chess with a demigod, but Jiraiya was stuck mostly following Kakashi’s orders.

“They’re expensive, too,” said Jiraiya. “You understand, of course, even for a grief gift, the fruit stand had to be paid.”

“Of course.” Fugaku narrowed his eyes for the first time. “And what was the price?”

“I negotiated the best deal I could.”

Fugaku nodded, never taking his eyes off Jiraiya. “Well, thank you for the gift,” he said, standing. “And for stopping by.”

“Of course.” Jiraiya stood, too. “Should you need anything, know that Konoha is, of course, here for your family.”

_Kind of._

* * *

Kakashi had not spoken to Obito since the Kannabi Bridge mission, mostly because he didn’t know how. The only reason he had even spoken to Rin was because she showed up at his apartment. Where once they had been his teammates, his equals, his friends, now they were nearly as young as Team Seven when he was first assigned to them. They were nearly half Team Seven’s age, now. He was _comfortably_ old enough to be their father. However, Obito and Rin still had the same expectation of friendship, and he wasn’t sure how to meet it.

He was a weird person to face on a day like this, with the masked man hanging over them. But, when his shadow clone got to Obito’s apartment and saw the miserable face of the teenager to whom it belonged, Kakashi realized he had to—not just for information, but because Obito needed someone.

“Hey,” said Obito, his shoulders hunched in melancholy. “I guess you heard, huh?”

“I did,” said Kakashi. “Can I come in?”

Nodding, Obito let him in and collapsed on his living room couch. Kakashi followed suit, sitting on a chair.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” said Kakashi, after a few moments of silence.

“It’s okay,” said Obito, in a tone that suggested otherwise. “We weren’t that close or anything. It’s just, most of my family, especially the elders, treat me like I’m not worthy of being part of the clan. Like I’m too stupid and weak to be an Uchiha. She was different, though. She was always nice to me. Always nice to everyone. It just doesn’t seem fair, you know? Yo—I mean, somebody—”

“I know about Yoichiro, too.”

Obito didn’t question it. “Yoichiro said that it’s the elders’ fault she killed herself. Some decision they made. Whatever they did, she’s dead, he’s gone, and everything’s—” Obito leaned back against the couch and didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t get it, Kakashi. I just...don’t.”

“I know,” said Kakashi. “I don’t think they meant to, though, and I don’t think she meant to cause everyone this much pain, either. I think she just felt like everything was...too much.”

“I hate this family,” said Obito, shaking his head. “I hate how harsh we are on ourselves. The elders want to tell everyone how to act and who to marry and who is and isn’t good enough to be good enough. Did you know, if I wanted to marry...someone who wasn’t an Uchiha, I’d have to justify it before the council? They couldn’t exactly stop me, but depending on what they decided about the person I married, they could exclude me from things. I mean, they already kind of do that. You’d honestly make a much better Uchiha than I do, thinking about it.”

“Hardly,” said Kakashi. “You know me. I’m a bit of a rebel.” That almost got a smile out of Obito. “Do you want them to like you?”

“Yeah,” said Obito, defeated. “Growing up, we’re taught that our clan’s what matters most. We may not like each other a lot, and we may fight a lot, but we’d die for each other. Which is why I don’t understand. We’re supposed to protect each other, you know? And, what’s worse, people outside the clan talking about what happened and saying all kinds of awful stuff. It’s so bad I don’t even want to go back outside. If it was any other clan, they wouldn’t say those things, but because it’s us…” Kakashi nodded in understanding. I just wish I knew how to fix it. Everything. I just want everyone to be nice to each other, but I feel so powerless.”

Pressing his lips into a flat line, Kakashi could _almost_ see how Obito became Tobi. He wore his heart on his sleeve and felt the pain of other people. Break a heart like that beyond repair and give it all the power in the world, Tobi might be born.

“Mrs. Hiromu gave me something,” said Obito, grabbing an ornate shuriken off the table—clearly a device made for decoration instead of usage. “When I became a genin, as a congratulatory present. I want to put it in her casket, but I don’t think the elders will let me.”

“You don’t want to keep it for yourself?” asked Kakashi. “To remind yourself of her?”

Obito shook his head. “I’ll always remember how nice she was to me. I just want her to know how much she mattered.”

Kakashi looked at Obito for a long time, not knowing what to say or if there was anything to say at all. He was five when he lost his father, so the emotions he experienced were likely different than the ones Obito was experiencing.

“Will you meet me by the lake?” asked Kakashi, not sure what else to do.

“Right now?” Kakashi nodded. “Why?”

“Just trust me. And, bring your shuriken with you.”

* * *

It took Kakashi the better part of an hour to gather everything he needed. By the time he met Obito by the lake—carrying his toolbox in one hand, a cluster of white flowers in the other, and several planks of wood in his arms—the sun was almost directly overhead.

“Did you just have those tools laying around?” asked Obito, raising an eyebrow as Kakashi put the wood on the ground.

“‘Course.” Truthfully, he had only had them for a few days, purchasing them after coming back from the Rain and discovering that his thirteen-year-old self didn’t even have a _toolbox_. “Everyone ought to have a toolbox. What’ll you do if your sink breaks?”

“Wait, you know how to fix a sink?” asked Obito, raising his eyebrows, and Kakashi nodded. “Can you teach me?” He nodded again. “So, what are we doing right now?”

“We’re building a boat,” said Kakashi, unloading his tools. “Not a person-sized one. Just a small one.”

“ _Why_?”

“I did say trust me.”

“I do,” said Obito, though he folded his arms. “I think. But, a sink I can understand. Why do you know how to build a boat?”

“I am a man of many talents, with many hobbies.” Kakashi handed him a hammer. “Now, are you going to keep asking questions, or are you going to help me?”

For most of the beginning, they talked only about the boat. Kakashi instructed him on the shapes they needed to cut, how to make sure it stayed afloat, and how to assemble everything. In silence, save for a few clarifying questions, Obito followed along.

“Kabuto’s in my class,” said Obito, eventually. “I mean, I’ve only had him for a day, but he seems nice.”

“He’s a good kid,” said Kakashi softly. “I got lucky, in that sense.” After another pause, Kakashi continued. “How do you like the academy?”

“Better than I did at first,” admitted Obito. “At first, I was disappointed that I was no longer Minato-sensei’s student. I still see Rin a lot, because she’s stuck in the village too, but you and Minato are off doing who knows what, who knows where. I miss him.”

“I understand. I miss him, too.”

“But, the kids are really cool.” For the first time that day, there was a bit of light on his face. “I mean, it’s a little scary, being in charge of their schooling and stuff. I don’t want to mess that up, you know? It’s so important. But, so many of them are really sad. Almost all of them have lost someone because of the war. It’s nice to help them. At least, as much as I can.”

“You know that’s why you’re not stupid and weak, right?” asked Kakashi.

“Anybody could be an academy teacher.”

“They can’t, though.” Kakashi looked up at the sun, felt it on his face, and it was still a strange feeling after being in the Rain for so long. Maybe Tenzō had the right idea. “It’s morbid, but soldiers, we live and we die. That’s our job—to live until we don’t. But, you’re kind and you’re empathetic, so much so that you’re one of the people capable of building a foundation for this village. To train the next generation of ninja and protect our way of life. That’s not a job that can be given lightly.”

“You sound like Minato-sensei.”

“Clearly, I have the right idea, then. Now, be a little more gentle with the hammer, you’re going to split—”

With one last attempt to drive in the nail, Obito split the piece of wood in his hands with a loud crack. He gave Kakashi an apologetic look and raised his hands in surrender.

“It’s alright,” said Kakashi, keeping his patience. If he could deal with Tenzō, Kabuto, and Itachi running across his living room, trying to dodge toilet paper lines while screaming (even though the latter promised not to), he could deal with Obito breaking a plank of wood. “Try again, but this time, the goal is to _not_ destroy it.”

“Well, I didn’t _mean_ to—”

Truthfully, Obito’s mishap only set them back a few minutes. Just as Kakashi had planned, they finished just as the sky was starting to darken. Taking the boat, he set it on the water and made sure it stayed afloat.

“Now,” said Kakashi. “Put the flowers and your shuriken inside of it.”

“I don’t get it,” said Obito. “What is this for?”

“You wanted a burial, but you were afraid your clan wouldn’t let you. So, I’m giving you a way to say goodbye that’s yours. That’s personal, made by your own two hands.”

Slowly, with the reverence a funeral deserved, Obito did as he asked.

“You need to push it off,” said Kakashi, pouring a vile of lighter fluid over the wooden structure. “And then, when it’s far enough away, you need to use a fire ball to light it on fire.”

“You want me to _what_?”

“Well, it is a public lake. If you don’t, it will probably be stolen, which ruins the gesture a bit.”

“I guess you’re right.” Obito knelt down and gently pushed the boat out onto the pond. Not taking his eyes of it, he dipped his hands into the water, rinsing off the lighter fluid. “It’s very Uchiha, at least.”

Obito waited until it was far enough away, before extending his arm and blasting it with a fireball. He did not watch as it burned, flames licking upward like a small bonfire on the lake, instead closing his eyes in silent mourning. As a few tears ran down Obito’s face, Kakashi put his hand on his shoulder, reassuring him as best as he knew how.

It felt selfish, intruding on Obito’s moment of grief, on the gesture of mourning for someone else, but his thoughts wandered, as they so often did. Three faces seemed to dance underneath the water, the three people he had been desperately trying not to think about. It stung at him like he was being electrocuted, and it nearly brought him to his knees beside Obito.

 _Not now_ , he thought. Maybe tomorrow, hopefully longer, but there was too much to do today to slip. _Please, not now._

* * *

Though Tsunade last looked at DNA records over a decade ago, it came back to her easily as she read through Yoichiro’s analysis as long as she kept a few reference books by her, covertly drunk as she was. The Third was even kind enough to spare her from hunching over all the papers in a crowded laboratory or records room. Before they turned her loose with all the results, he set her up with her Hospital Coordinator office, a small alcove on the first floor of the hospital. It was almost completely empty and would need to be filled out over time. But, it had a desk and a chair, and the bustling noise of the hospital was almost blocked, which was good enough for her, and she thanked her old teacher sincerely for it. He waived off the thanks, telling her that she deserved it for taking on the position.

She wanted to feel the daughterly affection that she once had for him, like someone who had a father figure again. That was clearly how he viewed her and was hoping she still had for him. The Prodigal Daughter, returned home at last to open arms. However, though no one knew it, she was several shots into the worst vodka she’d ever tasted, and only one silent, dreading thought drifted through her mind:

_I’m going to betray you._

Shaking it off, she skimmed through Yoichiro’s records and went for the easy things first. She pulled all the records of everyone else in Konoha with porphyria (there were only a handful), just to see if they were even distantly related. Each of those cases was a bust, though, so she was left to do some reverse engineering.

Fortunately, she possessed the advantage of working with Uchiha DNA. Like the Third said, they were _close_ , so she compared it to his mother’s records and several records from other Uchiha to have a better understanding of the mutations that typically occured in their family line. It took barely any time, after isolating the genes that came from his mother, that his father was not another Uchiha.

Konoha kept several records on common gene mutations in all their clans, in order to better identify bodies that were destroyed beyond facial recognition, as well as DNA samples from clans from other villages. The book of records was nearly as large as her torso, but she compared the information to Yoichiro’s father’s DNA as quickly as she could, hoping for a match. It was a tedious process, taking several hours, and was a completely failure.

Until, it wasn’t.

Stunned, she double checked herself, triple checked herself, pulled several more records just to be certain. As a sinking feeling settled into the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with the queasiness of the alcohol, she grabbed a family tree from the clan in question, trying to figure out who, based on age and a bit of sociological guessing, was the most likely candidate for the father. Once she arrived at her answer, she sat back in her chair, growing more sober by the minute, almost wishing that she’d brought the vodka to try and blur out the existence of this day.

She was not certain. Without more records, without one last DNA test, she couldn’t be. But, she was regaining some confidence, Kakashi’s “greatest goddamn medical ninja” echoing in her head like a mantra. So, while she would not have put money on it, she did inwardly guess, off-the-record:

The head of the Yamanaka clan, Inoya Yamanaka. Which, if correct, made Yoichiro and Inoichi half-siblings. Not only was Hiromu married when the love affair began, Inoya would have been, too. If that were to get out, another scandal would rock the foundations of Konoha’s already shaky social and political equilibrium.

Swiftly, Tsunade closed all the Yamanaka records and put them back like she was never there. Coming back to the porphyria records, she pulled out all of their family trees. The best place to start throwing off Konoha’s main branch was asking them to take DNA samples from those tangentially related to those afflicted to establish paternity to Yoichiro. It was a waste of hospital time and funds, both of which were already lacking due to the war, and it would not be a strategy that would last forever. But, Kakashi seemed to think it was important, so she followed his lead.

Later, when January came and passed, and Danzō was hopefully murdered, she would have to go have a difficult conversation with Inoya, asking if he was once unfaithful to his wife and if he would consent to handing over his DNA. However, that was mercifully set for another day—the only mercy that today would probably bring her.

* * *

For all Jiraiya’s spying, his disguises, his fables and deceptions, he was not accustomed to lying to the village government. It was once the only place he could let down his guard and drop his latest persona, before filling them in on every aspect of his recent missions and ventures. It was a cathartic habit, and he was usually able to go back to his apartment and sleep well for the first time in months. The peace might’ve only last for a day, leaving as quickly as it came, or might’ve lasted for several weeks. After leaving the Hokage’s office after his first re-entrance into the village, he was free to wander around his hometown as just _Jiraiya_ for a while.

Now, the only barest hints of catharsis he found, like a few droplets compared to a once-roaring stream, was found in locked-down, darkened apartments, in the presence of just two others, trading their experiences and thoughts in hushed tones. As silently hectic as their meetings were, they were also personal, friendly, and intimate, which made them dangerous. It was far less like the spy missions he was used to and far more like the Akatsuki—a revolution. But, against his better judgement, he trusted _Kakashi_ enough, despite the lingering doubts in the back of his mind, to wordlessly agree with Tsunade to make him the leader of their team.

However, no matter how much he let his guard down amongst the two of them, the other two doing their best to as well, just to keep trust alive, because trust desperately needed to be kept alive if their group was to work, it came right back up the moment he left the apartment. Jiraiya wandered Konoha as freely as usual, but he never stopped playing the carefully crafted character. Somewhere along the way, he suspected, Jiraiya’s Konoha and Kakashi’s Konoha were starting to merge.

He found no guilt in lying to the Third, so he felt somehow even less lying to Danzō. On the contrary, it brought him a weird sense of satisfaction.

“Jiraiya,” greeted Danzō, once Jiraiya met back up with him at his office. “Did you find out anything?”

“Well, I don’t think they did it,” he said. “Killed Hiromu, I mean. The more I talked to them, the more convinced I became that this was a tragedy and an unexpected debacle for their clan that they are now desperately trying to reign back in.”

“And that’s all?” asked Danzō. Slowly, he rose up from his chair and and ran his fingers over a couple books on his shelf before choosing one and placing it in front of him, as if to seem less threatening. “You dated an Uchiha girl a while back, didn’t you?”

Jiraiya had, which was public knowledge. She might have been the most serious relationship that he’d ever been in. Towards the end, he even considered proposing, and she might have agreed. However, neither of them would have been happy. Marrying outside her family would have brought her disgrace, and she cared deeply about her family and their customs, far more than she could ever care about him. Jiraiya could have pretended to be a good husband, at least for a little while, but his “I love you”s were more hollow, lesser, than they should have been. Whenever they had sex, he struggled not to close his eyes and pretend she had blonde hair and a wicked smile and strong arms and a laugh, while not the most elegant, could light up the room and the moment and his heart; he struggled to keep the wrong name off the tip of his tongue.

When they looked at one another, they both wished the other person was someone else. She: that Jiraiya had dark hair and a Sharingan; he: that she was the woman whose love confessions from Jiraiya would mean more, who he thought about whenever he drank her favorite brand of sake and whenever he passed the hospital. Jiraiya was never _hers_ , but Tsunade might always be _his_ , and that worried him. So, when his Uchiha girlfriend was in the mood for marriage but knew it was wise not to seek it from him, they amicably split.

Every once in a while, he saw her around, following behind her Uchiha husband and carrying a baby girl in her arms. She would wave and give a soft smile—too soft for his taste, what had he even been _thinking_ —and he returned the gesture. No words were ever spoken, but sincerely, he hoped she was happy.

“Sir, respectfully, that isn’t relevant.”

“Jiraiya, I know you feel close to the Uchiha clan.” Danzō stepped forward a few paces. “They’re a deep part of our village history, just as you and I are. I have no desire to violate that history if I can help it, because we are a village of unique, powerful, and united ninja, which is much more than most villages have. I care deeply for this village. I’ve dedicated my life to helping this village. As one of its elders, Konoha will always be my first priority.

“So, know that I say this with great hesitation; I think the Uchiha may be planning something against the village. _Our_ village. So, if you know anything else, I urge you to tell me. If there’s nothing else, then there’s nothing else, and they’re innocent. But, if not, the war has been a terrible blow for our people. We have to keep safe what remains.”

He had to admit, in another lifetime, where Kakashi had not swung into his life like a ball-and-chain flail and relentlessly decimated his view on the village, the speech might have been convincing enough. Over the top, definitely sleazy, and insufferable, but at the heart of it, he would have found it sincere. But, knowing what he did, the words were like venom. They, combined with everything else today, made him sick to his stomach.

It would be so easy, he realized, for him to just gut Danzō in his own office—make it so Danzō could never harm another person in Konoha again. He was much stronger than Danzō, had a wider range of skills. Jiraiya could make the fight over before it even began, crushing him into pieces, ripping him apart, stabbing him through his own floor until he bled out on the carpet.

Danzō had probably killed some of his friends due to meddling in the Third Ninja World War to increase conflicts on both sides. Good men and women, killed by someone they trusted. In less than a year, Danzō would partially and maliciously be responsible for Minato’s and Kushina’s deaths, and the thought of losing them was too much to comprehend, too painful.

Why shouldn’t he kill him?

“Alright,” said Jiraiya, as if nothing was wrong. It had been a long day, and emotions were running wild. If Kakashi could restrain himself, so could he. “There is one other thing. I don’t know how significant it is, or if it’s even significant at all, but the Uchiha managed to figure out that the Third is retiring. Fugaku’s gunning for the Hokage position. He and his clan members feel as if his actions during the war more than qualify him.”

“Then, just to be on the safer side, we should do our due diligence to vote him out,” said Danzō. The smile he gave, to others, might have seemed genuine, but it only made Jiraiya’s blood boil. _It would be so easy_. “Thank you for all of the information you’ve given me, Jiraiya. I appreciate your input.”

As Jiraiya left the office, he wondered, bitterly, if the village he woke up in two months ago, a few hours before Kakashi knocked on his door, still belonged to him. Jiraiya thrived on lies, but not here. Konoha was always his beacon of light, his shelter, no matter how temporary, from the wild world outside. However, as the last few months had taught him, the cheery town rested uneasily on foundations of toxic sand, poisoning all the way up the ladder.

Perhaps that was why he trusted Kakashi, as short of a time they’d really known one another. Kakashi saw the chaos and the sinking villagers and the rotting government, yet he still looked Jiraiya in the eye, with calm confidence, and said, “I know how to fix this, but I can’t do it alone.”

One way or another, he suspected, based on the flare of righteous anger and determination and _hope_ in his eyes, Kakashi would. So, Jiraiya followed.

* * *

Midway through the day, Mikoto Uchiha found Kushina Uzumaki at her home and asked her to inconspicuously check on Itachi, whom she had hidden at Kakashi Hatake’s place. Though Mikoto could not go herself, as that could compromise Itachi’s hiddenness, she was worried about leaving him with a thirteen-year-old tapped inside all day, particularly one who already had two other kids to watch. So, Kushina dropped by around three, wanting already to meet the kids Tsunade told her about.

She did not expect, when Kakashi let her in, for the oldest one to freeze and look at her in wide-eyed terror.

“Kakashi,” he whispered, never taking his eyes off her. “Kakashi, bad.”

“Don’t worry,” said Kakashi, ruffling his hair. “That chakra isn’t Mrs. Kushina’s. It’s locked inside of her, and because she’s a very tough woman, she keep it tightly under control. We’ll talk about it later.” Kakashi turned to her and gave a smile that wrinkled the upper part of his face, but it did not brighten his eyes. “Sorry about that. He’s...perceptive.”

The boys, she found, once they got over the eldest’s fear of the Nine-Tailed Fox, were adorably sweet and polite. The homework Kakashi was helping them with long-abandoned, they and Itachi were perfectly happy to visit with her, the former two animatedly telling her about the things in Konoha they had seen.

On the other hand, Kakashi was having trouble even keeping up a conversation with her. As best as she could tell—and she was pretty good at reading people—he didn’t find her presence unwelcome, but he was so sluggish and unfocused that he could barely keep up with what was happening around him. He looked tired, but there was something more to it; he seemed empty like a zombie trying desperately to pretend they were still alive.

“Do you want me to take the boys for a bit?” she asked, unnerved by his mood. “So you can go outside for a while?”

“Don’t worry about.” Shaking off the funk, Kakashi tried to put on a facade of liveliness, but it still didn’t touch the shadow in his eyes. “I’ve just got a couple shadow clones running around. One’s with Obito and the other is running errands. I don’t want to trouble you.”

She suspected he was telling the truth about the shadow clones, but it wasn’t the entire truth. “I don’t mind,” she said, touching his arm to gently reassure him. “I understand needing a break.”

Once again, the fatigue returned, but he looked at her gratefully. “Thank you.”

* * *

Sometimes, the most innocent of words could be the most terrifying, twisted by a voice, a tone, an implication,a history. There was a power in the horror of innocent words—the power of someone or something having such a great hold on a person that it could strike a paralyzing fear into them without trying.

For Tsunade, they came from a familiar, cold voice as she was walking back to the Third’s place from the hospital, causing a chill to shoot down her spine that had nothing to do with the bitter, November wind: “I heard you were back.”

For Jiraiya, they came from Tsunade, after she showed up at his apartment, shaken and pale: “ _He_ wants to have dinner.”

(Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoot)

Three legends walked into a bar. There was a time, before everything fell apart, when the sight of the Sannin at a local pub was a familiar one. In those days, they hardly did anything without one another, and prideful as they were, they thought it was hilarious when ninja and civilians alike would stare in awe as three of the best ninja on the planet were seated in their proximity for afternoon dinner.

Now, their unbelieving eyes stared for a different reason, and the only joke was the Sannin themselves.

_“Is that really her?”_

_“I think so. My cousin said that she saw her at the hospital, yesterday.”_

_“Is she still…you know…?”_

As they were led into a back room, Tsunade felt the shameless gazes of the patrons around them, nearly burning into her skin, but she kept her eyes forward and her head high. In a wave of self-consciousness, she wondered what the people around them were thinking. She was prepared for gossip, but she didn’t exactly want to be in earshot of it.

However, individually interviewing every single person in the pub about their feelings and judgments on her return sounded far more appealing than sitting down and having dinner with Orochimaru. Words could not describe how much she wanted to be as far away from here as humanly possible. It was far worse than facing Danzō and easily one of the most uncomfortable moments of her life. She did not know, before now, it was possible to feel so much rage and social awkwardness at the same time. But, instead of Kakashi’s words going through her head, all she could hear was Tenzō’s tiny, terrified voice.

_Cramped. Cramped. Cramped._

When they sat down, she and Orochimaru made eye contact, and he leaned back in his chair and studied her in a similar fashion to those around them. Trying not to shift uncomfortably in her chair, she raised her eyebrow, communicating a silent “what?” to him. Next to her, Jiraiya looked flawlessly calm, so she decided to let him do as much of the talking as they could get away with.

“A round of sake for all of us,” said Tsunade, without hesitation. “Oh, and by the way, this is on your tab for dragging us all here, Orochimaru.”

“Anything for you,” he said smoothly. “A celebration for your…unexpected return home. Though, I question why you’re making me pay for Jiraiya, too.”

“She’s trying to make sure we all die young from liver failure,” joked Jiraiya. “So, in twenty years, no one remembers how old she actually is.”

“Are you still pretending we’re young?” asked Orochimaru.

“There’s no pretending,” she said, with a teasing smile. “I _am_ young and beautiful.”

“Beautiful, yes. Youthful, no. But, at least that’s better than Jiraiya, who’s neither.”

“Look, snake-face,” said Jiraiya. “You’re not going to be winning any pageants soon, either.”

Mercifully, their waitress came back, brought them their drinks, and took food orders. Tsunade counted to ten in her head before she took a drink, attempting to seem like she wasn’t immediately trying to get drunk. She filled the interim with an eye roll.

“Glad to see that you two still bicker like children,” she said sarcastically.

“We’re just helping your youthful delusion—sorry, illusion—along,” said Jiraiya, grinning.

She glared at Jiraiya, and then, playfully pretending to ignore him, she turned towards Orochimaru. “So, Jiraiya tells me that they assigned you another round of genin brats.”

“They did,” said Orochimaru, resting his arms on the table. “However, only one of them is worth anything. Anko Mitarashi. Don’t tell her I said that, though. I don’t want her to get a big head.”

“Like we had?” asked Jiraiya, and Orochimaru grinned.

Tsunade forced a grin, but inside, her blood ran cold. With only the past to work with, it was one thing to sit there and pretend, for the duration of the dinner, that her old best friend hadn’t turned into a child-murdering psychopath.  It was another thing to be faced with the fact that there was another child out there who was unknowingly in danger from a teacher she trusted. Whatever betrayal Tsunade felt and whatever lingering feelings of love she had for Orochimaru were completely swallowed by a fury to protect that little girl.

_Cramped. Cramped. Cramped._

“I’ll be right back,” said Tsunade, with faux pleasantness, as a wave of revolted nausea hit her, so strong that it made her dizzy.

As soon as she made it into the bathroom and the door shut behind her, she threw up a disgusting mix of sake and stomach acid. She awkwardly tried to gargle with sink water to get rid of the smell before she went back out. The old lady who was in there with her said nothing—just patted her on the back and handed her a peppermint from her purse.

“I’m not pregnant,” said Tsunade sharply, as if that was anywhere close to what mattered at the moment. But, she didn’t want any extra rumors to get started about her.

“Neither am I,” said the woman.

_Touché._

* * *

 

Try as he might to find them, words could not describe how much Jiraiya wanted to be as far away from this dinner as humanly possible. There were so many emotions that Jiraiya was feeling that he was somehow feeling none of them, so he mostly focused his energies on trying to resist the urge to smash a glass bottle over his own head to achieve the mercy of unconsciousness. Some of this was going to bother him later, more than it already was—Anko, namely, and the general fact that he was having to worry about his best friend preying on children—but for right now, he found tranquility in trying to not off himself.

“It’s been a long time, Jiraiya,” said Orochimaru.

“It has,” agreed Jiraiya. “War’s kind of a bitch.”

“An almost over bitch, so they say.”

“Don’t jinx it, man. We need this shit to be done.”

“If talking about the war ending were to prevent it from doing so, it would have already been jinxed by a thousand people a hundred-thousand times.” Jiraiya opened his mouth to respond, but Orochimaru interrupted him. “While she’s in the bathroom, let’s talk about Tsunade. Our old sensei told me a little bit about why she came back.”

“Can I be honest with you?” asked Jiraiya, and Orochimaru nodded. The more baffled Jiraiya seemed, the better chance he had of convincing Orochimaru. Orochimaru always loved to feel like he was the smartest person in the room. “I didn’t think it was going to work. For the magnitude of trying to get her to come back, it was the most hobbled-together, last-minute plan I’ve ever had, and somehow it still worked better than any well thought out plan I’ve had in the last five years.”

“You’re feeling awfully nostalgic lately,” said Orochimaru, studying him. “First, Kakashi Hatake, then Tsunade.”

“Are you not glad to see her?”

“No, I am.” Despite how much of a slimy bastard that Orochimaru had become, Jiraiya suspected that was genuine. They all loved her, in their own ways—always had. “Just commenting that I’m not the only one picking up strays.”

“Maybe I am feeling a bit nostalgic,” admitted Jiraiya. “As I said, war’s kind of a bitch. It fucks with your emotions a little.” Jiraiya laughed. “You know, when we found her in a casino, Kakashi and I decided the best way to corner her would be to just join whatever game she was playing. When he won the first hand, I thought that, if only we had brought you, it would have been the chūnin exams all over again.”

Just then, Tsunade emerged from the bathroom. Jiraiya subtly scratched his nose to let Orochimaru know she was coming and that they needed to drop their current topic of conversation.

“Should my ears be burning?” she asked, looking between the two of them suspiciously. Jiraiya had to give her credit; she was doing a good job at hiding her feelings, as rusty of a ninja as she was.

“Age has made you paranoid,” said Orochimaru. “We were merely talking about nostalgia.”

“If I were to ever age,” said Tsunade. “Which I won’t, but if I were to, nostalgia’s what would get me. I forgot how goddamn fond I am of this city. It’s a pain, knowing it’s keeping me here.”

“If it keeps you here, then I’m going to have to find it quite the opposite of a pain,” said Orochimaru. “Though, I have to admit, I was surprised to learn that you gave Hatake your necklace—risked another life on your hands. Quite the gamble for someone who’s never won a bet in her life.”

“I was surprised to learn she hadn’t pawned it,” said Jiraiya, putting up a front of nonchalance, though he did not appreciate that Orochimaru was taunting her.

“Jiraiya, I have no qualms about killing you in public,” said Tsunade, before turning back towards Orochimaru. “It was what made me decide to come back. I figured, if it killed him, Jiraiya would have to leave me alone. If it didn’t, maybe there was some hope in this world after all.” She looked down at her lap and fiddled with the edge of her shirt. “I found hope.”

Their waitress brought another round of drinks, but before she could place them on the table, her tray slipped out of her hands and crashed onto the floor. The glasses shattered into a million pieces, one of which bounced up across her shin and left a nasty cut. Before anyone could do anything, blood was running down her leg and into her shoes.

Hoping that Tsunade had either turned away or closed her eyes in time, Jiraiya looked over to her, but he found that she had done neither. Eyes wide with terror, she froze, and her whole body began to shiver violently, like they had locked her in a freezer. Jiraiya did not know what was running through her mind, still not quite understanding, but he figured it had to be awful.

“Yo, Tsunade,” said Jiraiya, looking at her and getting closer, in attempt to snap her out of it. But, she showed no understanding of his words. Unsure of what else to do, he slipped an arm around her and tried to help her to her feet. “Try and disguise yourself, at least.”

That, she did manage, turning into a young woman with ink colored hair and emerald eyes. “We have to jet,” said Jiraiya, to Orochimaru, steering her towards the exit. “But, we’ll see you around, alright?”

“See you around,” said Orochimaru.

* * *

 

Orochimaru watched two legends leave a bar, one half carrying the other. There was no punchline, only the punch of a fall from grace.

He knew that the Third loved Tsunade a great deal, and in fairness, so did he. However, love had a tendency to make the Third blind, so while his old sensei might have accepted her return without question, Orochimaru could not. With the testing of his hypothesis, he realized that Tsunade was not any better than she was when she left, and he liked to think he knew Tsunade well enough to know that she would not have come home solely on the future hope of recovery without seeing some results first. A few possible explanations and leads floated through his mind—the soon-to-be-open Hokage position, the war ending, the possibility that she might have stumbled upon something secret—but either way:

_Those fucking liars._

(Hello, Darkness)

Tsunade did not remember the walk over there, or if she even walked at all. She might have run, or Jiraiya might have carried her. For all she knew, they might have teleported. Everything was hazy, and by the time she regained enough awareness of herself to figure out what was going on, she was on Jiraiya’s couch, with a cup of tea in front of her.

“Did I just dream all that?” asked Tsunade, still out of it.

“If you’re talking about dinner with Orochimaru,” said Jiraiya. He and Kakashi were sitting on the floor, presumably to give her space. “No, that unfortunately happened.”

“And, now we’re here.” She looked around intently, though she didn’t know what she was looking for. “Interesting.”

Though she was still trapped in a dreamlike state, memories of the dinner itself slowly came back to her: her uneasiness, Anko, and throwing up in the bathroom.

“You alright?” asked Kakashi.

“Yeah. I’m not pregnant.”

Both men exchanged a curious glance, though Jiraiya’s veered closer to suspicious. Relenting first, Kakashi gave a subtle, confused shrug and a shake of his head, which Jiraiya returned. “Drink your tea, won’t you?” asked Kakashi, getting up and handing her the cup off the table, at the same time Jiraiya said, “What the hell did you do in the bathroom?”

“Oh, right,” she said. At Kakashi’s request, she accepted the cup and took a drink. “I threw up. There was an old woman in there with me, and I told her I wasn’t pregnant, because I did _not_ want that rumor going around as a potential reason for my return.” As the fogginess cleared further, specific memories of their conversation popped back into her brain, and she shook her head. “God, that was a clusterfuck.”

“I think clusterfuck is an understatement,” said Jiraiya. “There’s no way in hell he didn’t cause that waitress to cut herself. He was testing us against something, and we failed.” But, he quickly added: “Not that I’m blaming you, Tsunade. It’s just one of those things, but we need to acknowledge that he’s suspicious now.”

“The good news is,” said Kakashi. “At least, in relation to Danzō, even if Orochimaru tells him he’s suspicious, it’s going to be hard for Danzō to connect that to the Rain. I don’t want to say it’s impossible, but unless something goes really wrong for us, those two issues are going to stay separated in his mind.”

“Which means he’s still going to go to the Rain,” guessed Jiraiya. “Suspicion makes the afterward a hell of a lot more complicated, though.”

Kakashi nodded. “The way I see it, we have three choices. We have a good shot at killing Danzō, we have a good shot at taking down Orochimaru, or we have a good shot at keeping the Third Hokage’s trust and maybe convincing him to do something. Once we pick, the other two get less likely. We’re going to have to pick a hill to die on, and no question in my mind, I think it should be Danzō.”

“That’s probably fair,” said Jiraiya, glad that, for the moment, he didn’t have to think about Orochimaru or the Third. “Did you at least figure out about you-know-who’s father, Tsunade?”

“I did,” said Tsunade. “Or, at least, maybe. I think it’s Inoya Yamanaka, though I can’t be sure until we can confront him after January.”

“The head of the Yamanaka clan?” asked Jiraiya incredulously. She nodded, and he sighed. “God, what the hell even is today?”

With that, all will to have conversation died, and a miserable, numb silence fell over the apartment. Until now, everything had gone well for them, completely predictable. This was the first thing that had gone south—the first unintended consequence of their meddling. From now on, it would get harder and hard to anticipate what would happen next, until the tomorrows spiraled out of their control and their future knowledge became less and less useful.

As of today, they would start losing the advantage they had banked on falling back on just a bit longer.

“I should go,” said Kakashi, after they sat in quiet well past the situation growing awkward. “Kushina is watching the boys, and as I’m not a shadow clone, I’m sure she would appreciate me coming back at some point.”

“I should, too,” said Tsunade. All three of them stood, Jiraiya to see them out. “Thank you, Jiraiya. I’m so sorry about what happened.”

“It’s okay.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “ _Really_ , it’s okay. We’ll figure it out, alright?”

Nodding, she hoped he was correct as she and Kakashi vacated Jiraiya’s place. Once Jiraiya shut the door and was out of earshot, she cornered Kakashi.

“Are you sleeping?” she whispered.

“What?”

“You look terrible.” She hadn’t noticed it yesterday, due to her hangover, nor earlier this morning, due to his disguise. However, he was pale and she swore he looked like he’d lost weight. “You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping or eating. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine, Tsunade.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself, first.”

“I mean it, Kakashi,” she said. “I appreciate that you’re a man, and you’re putting on a tough exterior, but I know what you’re holding onto. It isn’t healthy, and you know it. It’s reflecting on the outside of you.”

Perhaps it wasn’t the smile, Kakashi realized, that was so different between then-her and now-her. It was her face of concern that was so drastically different than her older self. Looking at her, Kakashi did not see see the other her, did not see a looking glass into the past/future, just her—the her that had become a close friend to him.

It was so easy to want it, too. He enjoyed Jiraiya’s and Tsunade’s company, and he was glad beyond words that Minato, Kushina, Obito, and Rin were alive. There was a lot of really good things about this lifetime, one of which her and her friendship, which was the thing tethering him most to here.

But there were three things missing, three unforgivable things, and accepting the Tsunade and Jiraiya of here would mean letting go of what could not bear to. He would be a traitor if he were to give in. He was already a traitor for wanting it.

Tsunade was right. It wasn’t healthy. And, maybe tomorrow, or the next day, or so on, he would confront it. But, for better or for worse, there would always be one thing still tethering him to last time, to Team Seven—Kaguya. For today, he had to hold on to the memory of the demigod he was opposing and fixate on the Masked Man, had to let it consume him, because it was the only long term, guaranteed way to keep the memory of his team alive.

“I assure you,” he said, placing his hand on her shoulder like Jiraiya had only minutes before, and the fire in his eyes almost convinced her. “I’ll be fine.”

_For today._

(The Empty Field)

On the eve of winter, two pens struck parchment, and the Third Ninja World War died with the autumn breeze, as swiftly and uneasily as it began. The event would bring about a night of celebrations, but first, it brought a day of mourning. Finally able to breath, loved ones flooded graveyards and memorials to grieve for those who could not.

Kakashi did not have the luxury of a grave or expression of remembrance. Desiring privacy above all else, he bought three white lilies and walked outside of the village to the training ground where he first gave Team Seven the bell test. He laid them in parallel, spaced out as if they _were_ on graves, and he sat on the ground in front of them.

Over the past few months, a fog had crept into Kakashi’s mind, slowly taking over like an untended weed. It was a fog of nothingness—the kind that made him collapse in the evenings without remembering what he did during the day and spend hours staring at his kitchen wall when the kids weren’t compelling him to do anything—and it was as familiar as walking through the hallways of a childhood home. In another lifetime, he sat in this fog for thirteen years, wasting away into the void of it.

Though his body was the same age, Kakashi was not the same man. His experiences taught him that the fog was not a healthy or productive place to be, even if it was less painful than life outside of it. The fog was thicker this time, but the stakes were higher.

Perhaps it was stupid to mourn for three people who would, one day, live again. And, it was merciful that they did not follow him here. Sasuke and Sakura would have one another, but Naruto would have lost his wife to the stream of another life, a pain that Kakashi could not imagine. Here, their new minds could be spared of so much suffering: Naruto from the gnawing loneliness of a childhood without love, Sakura from the pain of betrayal in a vulnerable heart, and Sasuke from the shadow of trauma and inner evil. They would never have to know the dysphoria that comes from looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger look back or from a sudden regression in societal place.

However, he took away far more than he gave. With lightning in his palm, he disintegrated a future for them that was hopeful and bright, carelessly crumpling it in his hands like a spare bit of paper. From scratch, they built themselves into people who could leave wherever they went better than they found it. They had everything before them—families, careers, a transformed world, the safety of knowing the apocalypse was behind them—and he took it.

One day, they would grow up to be the Team Seven he met eleven years ago, but they would never be _that_ Team Seven again. All their shared experiences, all that made them his, were gone forever, only living on as a haunted memory in his head.

It was time to face the music, or, rather, that there might never be music again. With a deep breath in, he allowed himself to feel.

He knew the moment itself would come first and loop repeatedly in his mind—the burst of evil, the sound of the Chidori in his palm, the blinding, pink glow of the crystal, and the electrocuting pain shooting through his limbs. The feel of a hand grabbing his wrist, a smaller hand touching his shoulder, and the horrible sound of their two owners crying out in pain. A concaving, eternal darkness.

_“This is an awful way to die.”_

_“We’re not going to die. We can’t. Not now. Summon us out of here, Sasuke.”_

_“I can’t. It’s not working. I’m stuck.”_

All because Kakashi insisted on going.

He always did have a nasty habit of killing those he cared about.

“I am so sorry,” he said, to the ground, to them. Guilt overwhelmed him like poison in his veins, paralyzing him, suffocating him. For a wild moment, in the depth of his remembering cycle, he begged his memory-self to not touch the crystal. “I was supposed to protect you. I should have been able to protect you, but instead I killed you myself.”

Unsure of how else to proceed, he turned to the first flower, and said, as if it was a proper funeral, “Naruto, you were the best man I ever knew. I really was a couple years away from giving you the Hokage position, because no one deserved it more. But, not because you saved the world. It was because everyone you came across was better for it, me most of all.

“Sasuke, you were a bastard,” he said, turning to the middle flower. “But, you were my bastard. I felt flattered that you asked me to be your father-substitute in your wedding, even though I knew it wasn’t like anyone else was going to do it. I was proud you put your life back together. I was proud you came home. I was really proud that you didn’t make me regret bailing you out of maximum-security prison. You made me…a more empathetic and patient person, and I was a better Hokage for it.

“And, Sakura.” He looked at the last flower and had to take a long, deep breath before continuing. “I really underestimated you at first. You were right; you were all little and stupid, but I knew who Naruto’s and Sasuke’s parents were and that they probably wouldn’t stay that way. But, god, how wrong I was to doubt you. I was proud of how hard you worked to keep up with Naruto and Sasuke. I was proud of how hard you worked to learn how to help people better than anyone ever had. You made me—”

Kakashi had to stop. Reducing the three of them down to a few sentences felt disingenuous—an insult to their memory. They meant so much more to him than a short eulogy. They were worth so much more to everyone; how could he even presume that a few shallow paragraphs of goodbyes would come close to adequately honoring them? A full hero’s burial should have been held to commemorate them, but all the world gave them was a pitiful collection of thoughts in his mind and three flowers in a training ground.

“Did they not do enough for you?” he asked, standing, looking up at the sky, and screaming at the universe. “Why the hell would you take more from them? Why didn’t you take me instead?

“Or, am I in Hell?” he continued, with a short, hollow laugh. “Is that what this is—that I never made up for the things I did? Is this the price I have to pay for their deaths? This has to be Hell, because there is no good world where I’m alive and they’re not.” His throat was growing raw from yelling, but he didn’t care. As if daring the universe to strike him down, he spread his arms wide. “You can take whatever you want from me. Take my heart, take my life, make me walk through a fiery plane for the rest of goddamn eternity. I don’t care. Just don’t take anything from them.”

But, he realized, the universe would never take him up on that request. Death would not be a punishment in this circumstance but instead a mercy, and therefore the universe was not going to grant it. He would have given almost anything to be back in that moment, to stop himself from touching the crystal, but the clock turned back too far, because life was not that kind.

He underestimated the despair that would arise in this moment, and everything inside of him was quickly spiraling out of control.

“How am I supposed to live, now, huh? I—” The words were foreign and weird to say out loud, even though he meant them, but in the rawness of the moment, he didn’t care. “— _loved_ them. What even am I without them? I—” All speech was getting caught in his throat, bubbling inside and choking him. “—just, _fuck_.”

Kakashi was not the sort of man who cried. From a young age, he was taught that men, that ninja, did not cry, and it was a rule he always followed, even in the face of so much death. But, there was something about them that broke him, then, and he collapsed on the ground with his knees to his chest. He didn’t sob, just experienced tears in the way Tsunade did—a few silent drops down his face before he could stop them. He hastily wiped them away, but like the hydra of legends, each tear removed from his face seemed to breed two more.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words tumbling out of his mouth again and again, begging the dirt for a forgiveness that it could not give. “God, I’m so sorry.”

If this was life, it had to be a mistake. The great tragedy of being human—mortality—was not a price worth any goodness the world had to offer. In death, Team Seven took every part of him with them, and all that was left was a hollow, broken shell of a body.

 _No_ , he almost heard Naruto say, so strongly he had to look around. _We haven’t left you._

If nothing else, he realized, that was a disrespect to their memory—giving up on the good in the world. Naruto did not suffer for so long and believe in the goodness in people’s hearts so strongly for him to surrender now, nor did Sakura fight so hard to help bring people out of the darkness, nor did Sasuke put so much effort into turning his life around. Kakashi did not have graves, but he held the memories of them that would carry on until his life, too, was done. For them, that had to be enough.

It did not stop the constant flood of apologies, but as he embraced the shadow of them in his heart, the constricting grief eased its grasp.

(Colours)

Finally lacking responsibilities, Minato and Kushina spent their morning playfully arguing over paint samples on their couch. Kushina, sitting on Minato’s lap, was in charge of keeping up with the colored cards and sorting through them, but after forty-five minutes, the couch, the coffee table, and their legs were so covered in them that their living room was starting to resemble an abstract art piece. His arms around her waist and his chin on her shoulder, Minato, though by far the neatest of the two, was so glad to have the chance to hold her that he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“What do you think about this one?” asked Kushina, holding up a pale green.

Minato wrinkled his nose. “It’s a little nauseating.”

“You think all green is nauseating.”

“Not your dress.”

“Only ‘cause it’s on me,” she said, grinning.

“That’s probably true,” he said, returning the smile. He picked up a golden one that was stuffed in the couch cushion. “I like this one.”

“There’s a fifty-percent chance that it’s going to match our future child’s hair,” said Kushina. “Definitely not.” Giggling, she picked up an obnoxious, bright-orange card. “Clearly, this is the one.”

“Clearly,” said Minato, and he snorted. “Could you even imagine? Our kid would have a nervous breakdown before the age of one, looking at that color all the time. _I’d_ have a nervous breakdown.”

“That would be a fun story.” Leaning back into his shoulder, she continued dramatically: “Legendary hero of Konoha, bested by his own kid’s nursery.” When he rolled his eyes, she laughed. “Don’t worry. To honor your sacrifice, Jiraiya and I will write a beautiful ballad about the tragedy to the tune of whatever song’s biggest at the moment and perform it in every karaoke bar in town while you recover.”

“Remind me to never have a personal tragedy in which I can’t defend myself,” said Minato. “Or, if I do, remind me to take Jiraiya down with me.”

“You wouldn’t take me down, too?”

“No,” he said, grinning again. “Don’t tell anyone, but I might be a little in love with you.” Before she could respond, he reached over to the coffee table and grabbed a rich blue with a green undertone, hidden beneath a stack of reds. “How about this one? It’s not too green, at least.”

“I like it.” She took the card and held it in front of her, imagining it on a wall, and she gave a melancholy smile. “I like it a lot. It reminds me of the sea, you know? Now, we just need to pick a color to pair it with.”

“Clearly the orange,” he joked.

“ _Clearly_.” Laughing, she picked back up the gold. “Paired with the blue, I think it might be okay, but maybe—”

Because life, it seemed, was never kind, a knock on the door interrupted her.

“I’m going to commit homicide,” she said, glaring at the spot where the door was through the wall.

“I’m sure it’ll be nothing,” he said, but he didn’t believe it, and she knew it.

Trying not to seem too disappointed, because the war was over and today was a day meant for celebrating, she rolled off him. As he walked over to the door, she went to tidy up the ones that were complete rejects: all the greens, some that matched her hair, and that awful orange. But, she couldn’t find the will, hoping, against all odds, that they might be able to immediately return to the couch.

“Hey,” she heard Tsunade say, when he opened the door. Kushina was immediately relieved, but then: “The Hokage wants to see you.”

“Traitor!” said Kushina, darting around the corner so fast that her hair took several seconds to catch up, whipping around her like the seeds of a blown-on dandelion.

“There’s decaffeinated brands that are just as good, you know,” said Tsunade. Kushina narrowed her eyes. “Look, it’s not for a mission or anything. He just wants to talk. Shouldn’t even take that long.”

Kushina’s gaze still didn’t let up, so Tsunade’s eyes narrowed in return. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you this recently,” said Tsunade. “But you still look like a habanero.”

“Are you bullying me?” asked Kushina, scandalized.

“If you don’t want to get called a habanero, don’t look like one—”

“—my own cousin, my last known family, bullying for me a trait of our shared heritage—”

“—I’m pretty sure our ‘shared heritage’ isn’t making you go red in the face—”

“—I have fair skin, Tsunade—”

“—you have a temper, is what you have—”

“—your temper is _way_ worse than mine—”

“I’ll go see what the Hokage needs,” said Minato, kissing Kushina on the forehead, wanting to be out of the line of fire. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Bye, Minato,” they said in unison, never breaking eye contact with one another.

Even though they looked nothing alike, Minato swore, in that moment, they looked identical.

“I should get going, too,” said Tsunade.

“Wait,” said Kushina, and she finally looked away. “You know…if you don’t have anything you have be doing, I could…permit you to stay and hang out with me.”

When Tsunade narrowed her eyes further, Kushina gave the most charming smile she could. “You are so needy,” said Tsunade, shaking her head, but she walked back into the house regardless.

“Don’t go into the living room,” said Kushina, holding up the orange card in her hand. “We’re trying to decide on colors for the nursery.”

“Is that the one you’re going with?” asked Tsunade, inspecting it.

Kushina laughed. “No, this is the one we are definitely _not_ going with. We kept throwing it out as a joke.”

Staring at the card for a moment longer, Tsunade got the oddest on her face. She smiled, as if amused, but not for the same reason Kushina was. “If you’re not using this, can I have it?”

“Sure,” said Kushina slowly, bewildered as to what she could even want it for, but she didn’t press. “What are your plans for this evening?”

“Nothing concrete,” said Tsunade. “Probably drinking, at some point. I was actually about to go ask Jiraiya and Kakashi what their plans were—try and coordinate something.”

“Kakashi, too?” Tsunade shrugged. “Minato and I talked about getting a group together to go celebrate, so if the three of you wanted, you could always join up with us.”

“I’m sure, if they’re not busy, they’d like that,” said Tsunade. “Want to split up, then? You grab one, I grab the other, and we meet back up here?”

Smiling, Kushina nodded. “I’ll take Kakashi. I’ve been wanting to see the boys again.”

“When you see him,” said Tsunade, handing her back the orange card, and the weird look returned to her face. “Give him that and tell him the same thing you told me. Just replace ‘nursery’ with ‘spare room’ or something.”

Kushina looked between the card and Tsunade curiously for a long moment, but she eventually took it, finding the request harmless. For all she knew, there was a normal explanation for it, such as Kakashi coincidentally painting his room that color, and Tsunade just found it funnier if she wasn’t in on it. However, combined with Kakashi’s, Tsunade’s, and Jiraiya’s strange behavior since the end of September, Kushina’s mind wandered back to Tsunade’s promise of an explanation soon and wondered if they were connected.

* * *

 

Disappointingly, neither Kakashi nor the boys were at the apartment, nor was Kakashi at the graveyard or in any of the main streets. Through some asking around, she finally ascertained that he exited the village a short while ago and went in the direction of the training fields. At first, Kushina thought he had just gone to train, because Kakashi was weird enough to spend the morning of the war ending training instead of celebrating. However, as she circled around the perimeter of the training fields, in no hurry, trying to figure out which one he had gone to, she heard a sudden burst of yelling, and she ran towards it.

“Am I in Hell?” she heard Kakashi ask, and she realized that he was not shouting in combat. Wanting to hear what prompted such a question, she paused a significant distance away from where his voice was coming from. She knew if she got too close, he would notice her, and his actions would be interrupted. However, that meant some of his words dissipated in the distance. “You can take whatever you want from me. Take my heart, take my life, make me walk through a fiery plane for the rest of goddamn eternity—” More muffled yelling followed. “—how am I supposed to live now, huh? I—” The rest of the sentence was dropped. “—what even am I without them? I…just, _fuck_.”

Even after the screaming ceased, she was still frozen in place, both dumbfounded and terrified by what she heard. It was nosy to spy on him, but in the interest of his well-being, she activated her Nine Tails Chakra Mode to gauge his emotions. However, it only intensified her fear; Kakashi radiated immense, horrifying grief, with suffocating guilt layered underneath, and it nearly knocked her off her feet. It was not a unique grief—many people in Konoha were feeling it today—but it was a grief that should not have belonged to Kakashi.

Panicking, she tried to decide whether she should go to him and make sure he was alright or go home and ask Tsunade what to do. Unable to pick, she remained still amongst the trees, waiting, feeling. A new surge of guilt in his heart—the guilt of the world—battled with the mourning, but there was no clear victor, and a wave of despair joined the fray.  Then, without warning, everything eased.

None of it made any sense.

Making her decision, she used the break to dispel her chakra and race over to him. He sensed her before she caught sight of him in the middle of the clearing, already getting off the ground as if to meet her. However, she wanted to see what he was doing, so she did not slow until she was standing beside him. At his feet, there were a few white lilies, spaced out at awkward lengths, and though she had never known him to cry, his face was red as if he had been. Neither told her anything she didn’t already know, and yet, they made everything more confusing.

“Hey,” she said. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Sorry.” He looked away and coughed some of the roughness out of his voice. “Everywhere in Konoha was crowded, and I knew no one would be out here.”

“Are you alright?”

“Of course,” he lied, as if they both didn’t know she had just heard him yell out his depressive episode at a separated bouquet. “I just…my parents. Grieving my parents.”

His grief was not the sort that belonged to the deaths of one’s parents in early childhood—she had been there before—but she did not call him on it. “Right. Well, a group of us are going out this evening to celebrate if you want to come with. Tsunade’s going and maybe Jiraiya; she went to go ask him while I found you.”

Still not quite meeting her eyes, he nodded distractedly, and Kushina had no idea if it was a “yes” or a “no.” She did not want to leave him alone, genuinely afraid he was having a lapse in sanity and might be a danger to himself, but she did not want to let on how terrified she was, afraid it would only make it worse. So, she hoped Tsunade’s instinct was right and pulled out the paint sample card.

“Minato and I are repainting our spare room, and we’ve gone through about a million paint samples that are currently thrown all over our living room. For some reason, Tsunade wanted me to tell you that Minato and I thought this was the worst color imaginable, and we kept throwing it out as a joke.”

Like Tsunade, he got a weird look on his face, and he laughed. She was not sure if it made her feel better or worse about the situation. “Can I have that?” he asked, and she handed it over. Then, with all the heart as if she had done him a great service: “Thank you.”

Before she could stop him, he ran back towards the village, leaving her in an empty field with white lilies.

“Who are you?” she asked the flowers on the ground.

* * *

 

Of the people in Konoha who shared his profession, Skimbops Marquis was, by far, the sketchiest. No one knew how he got the name; he kept it a secret to increase his air of mystery, but really all it did was make him seem seedier. In his six-year stint as Hokage, Kakashi had personally charged him with various misdemeanors on seventeen separate occasions.

If Kakashi could have gone anywhere else, he would have. However, if he wanted this now, reputability had to be tossed out the window, and his only hope was that Skimbops Marquis was still asleep and thus had yet to take anyone.

“The fuck, man?” asked Skimbops Marquis, opening his apartment door with a yawn. He was twenty-four-years younger than Kakashi had last seen him, but the youthfulness of his mid-twenties did not improve his sleaziness. “It’s only ten.”

Thinking back to the time that Skimbops Marquis drunkenly stole all the toothpaste from a corner store and threw up in the police station, Kakashi felt no pity for him. “Are you taking walk-ins?”

“I’m taking nothing but walk-ins today. Gotta capitalize on that grieving impulsivity.” He opened the door to his apartment wider to allow Kakashi entry. “How can Skimbops Marquis help you, my friend?”

That really should have been the point where Kakashi realized he was making a mistake and backed out, but he was so caught up in the trammels of grief that rationality—and, if he was being honest, a non-insignificant chunk of his sanity—was gone. Team Seven was gone, safety from Kaguya was gone, his village was gone, and his proper body was gone. The entire future was gone. All that remained was Naruto’s voice and a little, orange paint sample.

So, instead of leaving like he should have done, Kakashi stepped inside and handed over the card Kushina gave him. “You’re going to need this.”

“It’s tacky. I like it.”

* * *

 

By the time Kushina arrived back home, Tsunade and Jiraiya were already there, sitting at her kitchen table and playfully bickering about something. She must have looked panicked, because when they caught sight of her, they immediately stopped their conversation and straightened in their chairs.

“What happened?” asked Tsunade.

“I need your help,” said Kushina. “It’s Kakashi. He’s having a nervous breakdown.”

Quickly, she recounted the events at the training ground: the yelling, the unexplainable grief, the flowers, and the card. As she went through her story, she noticed, even amidst her terror, that Jiraiya and Tsunade did not look as confused as she expected them to be. They looked as concerned as Kushina was, but they lacked the bewilderment. At first, she thought it might have been that they didn’t want to worry her more than she already was, but the more she thought about it, the more it struck her as odd.

“Give Jiraiya and I a second,” said Tsunade, once she was finished.

Turning back towards Jiraiya, Tsunade put up her hands like a barrier to block her face from Kushina’s eyes, and Jiraiya did the same. Presumably mouthing words to one another, they silently argued for over two minutes. Though, if Kushina had to guess from the body language, it was mostly just Tsunade berating Jiraiya for something and the latter getting defensive about it.

“Fine, fine,” said Jiraiya aloud, and they both put down their hands. He got up from the table, walked over to the front door, and waved behind him. “See you tonight, Kushina.”

“Alright,” said Kushina, looking between he and Tsunade, trying to figure out if what just happened was good or bad. “See you tonight.”

The moment Jiraiya shut the door behind him, Tsunade rolled her eyes. “Men are so stupid,” she said. “They’d rather you break their legs than have to talk to one another about their feelings.” Turning back towards Kushina, Tsunade narrowed her eyes and studied her for a moment. “Don’t tell anyone what you saw—not even Minato, okay?”

Kushina nodded. As a ninja, she was used to secrecy, so she knew that she couldn’t ask and didn’t need to. She settled for just asking, “Is Kakashi going to be alright?”

“Yeah,” said Tsunade. “He’ll be fine.”

Like Kakashi’s voice in the field, Tsunade’s tone was light, almost hyper-reassuring her even in the face of something bad. It irritated Kushina, and though it was stupid to feel out of the loop as a ninja, because there was a lot even Minato had to keep from her, she felt kept out of the loop all the same. It would be one thing if Tsunade and Jiraiya were just lying to her—that would be consistent with ninja work—but for the most part, they were just going out of their way to be cryptic. As far as Kushina could tell, they wanted her to uniquely put together that something about the situation was off, as part of Tsunade’s promise to tell her later.

However, she was slightly reassured by the fact that Jiraiya went instead of Tsunade. If Kakashi was truly having a break in sanity, Tsunade, as a medical-nin, would have been the one to go.

The two of them talked for another two hours, during which Tsunade was strangely upbeat. Kushina had a feeling Tsunade was forcibly entertaining her to take her mind off it, which would have added to her irritation if it hadn’t worked. Kushina didn’t even realized how much time had passed until Minato came back and she looked at the clock.

When he stepped into the house, Kushina could immediately tell something was amiss. He looked dazed and confused, like someone had drugged him, and he didn’t make eye contact with her, only Tsunade. Kushina was almost worried, but when she looked over to Tsunade, she found her grinning widely.

“What did you say to them?” asked Minato, after several seconds of silence, his voice halfway between talking and whispering.

“Nothing that wasn’t deserved,” said Tsunade. “And, I assure you, I wasn’t the only one. Did you say yes?” Minato nodded, and Tsunade got up from the table, walked over to him, put her hand on his shoulder, whispered something that Kushina couldn’t hear, and winked. Then, she left the house with the parting words: “Don’t doubt yourself. You deserve it.”

Even once she shut the door, Minato didn’t move from the entryway, still dumbfounded by whatever the Third Hokage told him. Kushina was still a little nervous at his demeanor, despite Tsunade’s glee, so she got up to meet him and wrapped her arms affectionately around his neck.

“You know, if they’re making you leave again, I’m serious about the homicide,” she joked, certain he wasn’t but hoping to snap him out of his fog.

“No,” he said, still avoiding her gaze. “I’m actually going to be leaving the village a lot less now. I got promoted.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” she said, smiling. “To what?”

Finally, he looked at her, and when the word tumbled out of his mouth, she suddenly understood why he was so floored. “Hokage."

* * *

 

As he walked back to his apartment, Kakashi’s arm ached, and it both bothered him and didn’t. The pain from the ache itself hardly registered in his mind, but the real pain came from the constant reminder that his arm existed at all. He was dazed from grief and the first signs of regret, and as he suspected his apartment would be empty, save for maybe Tenzō, he intended to try and sleep it off.

However, when he entered through his front door, his apartment was completely packed with people. Sitting at his kitchen table, Jiraiya was animatedly telling a story to a small army of children at his feet, only one of whom was supposed to be there. Other than Kabuto, he only recognized two of them: Hana Inuzuka and Itachi Uchiha. In the far corner of the living room, Tenzō sat with his knees to his chest, and he peeked over the couch so he could still listen to Jiraiya, while being as far away from the crowd as he could.

“Hi, Kakashi,” said Kabuto cheerfully, and all the kids echoed the greeting. Kakashi gestured to the crowd, to prompt an explanation. “Oh, Hana’s family is having a party because the war is over, and we’re going to everyone’s parents to ask if we can go, and we came here so I could ask you if I could go, and Jiraiya was here, and he’s been telling us stories—”

“Please tell me they were appropriate,” said Kakashi, which earned him an eye roll from Jiraiya. “Yes, Kabuto, you can go. Just be back by—” He felt like Tsunade, trying to come up with a curfew but struggling to pick one that wasn’t just arbitrary. “—ten thirty, let’s say, as long as you take your brother with you.”

Tenzō’s eyes went wide. Like he did with Shizune, Kakashi inconspicuously nodded his head, though it was less of an encouragement and more of an order. As the kids shuffled out, Kabuto grabbed Tenzō’s hand and nearly dragged him out with them.

“He’s getting pretty popular,” said Jiraiya, once the door was shut.

“He’s making my apartment break the fire code,” said Kakashi, sitting down across from Jiraiya. Truthfully, though, Kakashi was glad Kabuto was adjusting well. “How long have you been here?”

“About two hours.”

Judging from the timeline, it was not hard for Kakashi to put together the reason for his visit. “She didn’t tell anyone else, did she?”

“Only Tsunade.” Kakashi nodded and didn’t meet his gaze; today had not been his proudest. “So, how’re you doing?”

“I’m fine,” said Kakashi easily. “Really.”

“No, you’re not,” said Jiraiya, leaning back in his chair and examining him. “We don’t have to talk about it, but I know you’re not. And, if you ever need to talk, you know, it’s okay…to not be okay.”

Kakashi looked over to him and narrowed his eyes slightly, examining Jiraiya in return. So far, Jiraiya had yet to divulge what was truly going through his mind in relation to the Third Hokage and Orochimaru, and Kakashi did not know if Jiraiya even knew, yet. He knew that Jiraiya would always do the right thing, but betrayal from a best friend was a hard pill to swallow, and Kakashi had to wonder and worry where on the “okay” scale Jiraiya was currently falling.

He fought not to rub the sore spot on his right arm.

“You, too,” said Kakashi genuinely. “It’s all just...”

Though Kakashi trailed off, Jiraiya caught his meaning. “It’s a fucked-up situation,” agreed Jiraiya, before grinning. “But, we wouldn’t be the specialized team of the biggest fuck-ups on the planet if it wasn’t.”

“Jiraiya, I know you have at least one literary bone in your body,” said Kakashi, rolling his eyes. “Please use it to come up with a better name.”

“I did: The Future Unit for Covert—”

“That one was worse.”

“How would you know, anyway?” asked Jiraiya. “I’m the one who’s going to be a best-selling author.”

“Right now, you’re just a man who’s letting Hanzō outshine his naming skills.”

“‘Sannin was cheating. Looking at three ninja and calling them ‘The Three Ninja’ barely even counts as naming.”

“And, yet,” said Kakashi. “It’s what everyone still calls you.”

“Fine. We’ll be the ‘Sanbakayarou.’”

“I have a feeling ‘The Three Assholes’ isn’t going to catch on as well.”

“You know, you’re real bitchy,” said Jiraiya. “How about…Team Twenty-Three?”

“What’s twenty-three?”

“The age that Tsunade is going to make us all pretend to be forever.”

“That’ll be easier for me than you,” said Kakashi, his lips twitching, and Jiraiya grinned.

“Speaking of twenty-three-year-olds,” said Jiraiya. “I forgot to tell you; the Third asked Minato to be his replacement this morning. He was still at the meeting when I left. So, at least we didn’t fuck that up.”

“And the war is over,” said Kakashi, trying to think optimistically. “One step closer, then.”

The implied “until Danzō’s death” hung awkwardly over them, both wondering about the unknown that would follow a success and the catastrophe that would follow a failure. Once they made that commitment, their future knowledge would still be invaluable, but they would lose the advantage of certainty.

Kakashi fought not to rub the sore spot on his right arm.

“There’s—” began Jiraiya, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“It’s me,” said Tsunade.

Lazily, Kakashi took the kunai off his belt and threw it at the front door knob, so the hilt crashed into the lock and turned it. “S’open,” he said, as Jiraiya rolled his eyes and muttered, “Show off.”

“Hey,” she said, entering, and once the door was shut: “Minato said yes.”

Though they knew Minato was going to, Kakashi nearly sighed in relief. “How did he seem?”

“Stunned.” Joining them, she walked over to the table and took a seat. “But, I didn’t stay long, so Minato could tell Kushina in peace.”

“Speaking of,” said Jiraiya. “Now that we’ve cleared that hurdle, you have to convince Kushina to tell you when she’s pregnant before she tells anyone else. I mean, you’re a medical-nin. Can you tell when someone’s...planning that kind of thing?”

“First of all, no,” said Tsunade, bewildered. “Thank god you have no experience in this area, but unprotected sex isn’t a medical condition. Second, I don’t have to convince her of anything, because she already told me. I accidentally found a bunch of pregnancy brochures in her kitchen trash can when I first got back.”

“Did you get rid of them?” asked Kakashi.

“Yeah. We doused them in rubbing alcohol and made a bonfire in training field fourteen.” She paused and looked down at the table, before looking back up at Jiraiya. “I’ve been thinking about what you said in the Rain. If worse comes to worst, and it means saving them, I’ll do it.”

“Take the Nine-Tails?” he asked, and she nodded. “Hopefully, it won’t come to it.”

“Hopefully.” An awkward silence hovered over the three of them, but Tsunade was quick to break it. “So, what have you two been up to?”

“Nothing,” said Jiraiya, nodding over to Kakashi. “He barely beat you here.”

“What? Where were you?”

Involuntarily, Kakashi felt his face go red, and the ache in his arm felt like it was on fire. Today really was not his proudest.

“ _What_?” asked Tsunade again.

“I was…making a mistake,” he said. However, noticing their faces and realizing their stakes, he quickly added: “Personal, not professional.”

“Define mistake,” said Jiraiya slowly, as he and Tsunade exchanged a glance.

With both difficulty and shame, Kakashi cleared his throat and said, “I went to Skimbops Marquis’s place.”

“No,” said Tsunade, standing in shock. “Kakashi, please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately, not,” said Kakashi, wishing he would just sink through the floor and into oblivion. “There’s at least a five-percent chance I now have hepatitis C.”

Tsunade clamped her hands over her mouth to try and stop a burst of nervous giggles, but she was unsuccessful. “I’m sorry,” she said, through her fingertips. “That’s really fucked up.”

But, her giggling caused him to laugh despite himself, at the stupidity of the entire situation. It started as a snort but quickly escalated, which caused her to start laughing harder, and it snowballed until they were both in hysterics. His head was in his hands as he tried to regain composure, and she had to grab the back of her chair to keep from falling over.

“Who the hell is Skimbops Marquis?” asked Jiraiya.

“You don’t know who Skimbops Marquis is?” asked Tsunade incredulously. “I’ve been back for two weeks and I know who he is.”

“Look, I’m gone a lot. Sometimes I fall behind.” Neither Tsunade nor Kakashi wanted to explain, nor were they able to pull themselves together. “What, is he a prostitute or something?”

“No, I wish,” said Kakashi. “I’d certainly feel a lot better at the moment.”

“Well,” said Tsunade, still giggling. “Let’s see it, then.”

When Kakashi moved to pull up his sleeve, Jiraiya realized Skimbops Marquis’s profession. “Oh my god, you’re fucking with us, right?”

Wanting to rip off the metaphorical bandage, Kakashi did not stop to answer, lifting his sleeve so that his entire upper arm was visible. Underneath a few layers of plastic wrap, there was a black piece of linework in the shape of the symbol for the number seven. The top three notches were loosely colored in pink, orange, and red, and the long, bottom piece was colored blue, for them and him respectively.

“It’s not bad,” said Jiraiya, forcefully thinking on the bright side. “As far as tattoos go, it’s done pretty well. It could certainly be worse.”

“At least, until you get blood poisoning or something” said Tsunade.

Absolutely nothing about the situation was truly funny. The three people Kakashi loved most were, in a bizarre way, dead, and it tore at him so much that he got an impulsive, memorial tattoo. Hell was before them; everything and nothing was before them. However, like Tsunade and Jiraiya fell victim to in their bunker in the Rain, everything was so messed up and ridiculous that it was impossible to deal with properly. With nothing else to do, the three of them laughed, trying to pretend, at least for a moment, that life was different than what it was.

(The Edge of Almost)

Four sat on a mountain, lost in thought while staring at the city below, and Six, though Four did not know his identity at the time, came up behind him and asked, “Mind some company?”

“Sure,” said Four, not turning around to look at his former student.

Six took a seat next to him and dangled his legs over the Hokage Rock, and together, they watched Konoha in silence. As dusk was approaching, people were hastily setting up an impromptu festival to celebrate the war ending. They strung lanterns across strings that stretched down the lengths of the streets, and soon, they would be the only things visible from as high up as Four and Six were. Various stalls popped up like gophers out of the ground, and as they increased in frequency, the smell of food filled the air.

“It’s been a while,” said Minato.

“Two and a half months is hardly an eternity,” said Kakashi, but his voice was not unkind.

“A while for us, then—but, evidently long enough for you to become a father.” Kakashi rolled his eyes, and Minato grinned. “How are they?”

“They’re a handful, but it could be worse. They’re good kids. Kabuto has more friends than he can keep up with, but Tenzō, if I didn’t make him, would only talk to me, his brother, Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Shizune. He should be able to join the Academy soon, though, so I’m hoping that will snap him out of it.”

On his return to the village the day before, Kushina filled him in on how weird Kakashi had grown. But, Minato had not personally witnessed any of it since the Kannabi Bridge mission, and from the stories, that mission appeared to be the tamest. It was not his place to press, though, and if he was to become Hokage, he supposed he would find out soon enough.

“Congratulations, by the way,” said Kakashi.

“How did you know?”

“I have my ways.”

“So, Tsunade told you?”

“Yeah,” said Kakashi, and Minato could see the flicker of a smile in his eyes. Then, Kakashi look over to him. “How are you feeling about it?”

For a moment, Minato considered lying with a quick “I’m fine; it’s a great honor” and moving on. It was the answer Minato would have given Obito and Rin without hesitation, and as such, a legitimate answer felt strange to give to Kakashi. Unlike Obito and Rin, however, who did not have the capacity to understand the nuances of the truthful answer, Minato suspected that Kakashi really was asking. Perhaps it was just due to the level of crisis that Minato was currently experiencing, but Minato did not feel the need to hide anything.

“I don’t feel worthy,” admitted Minato, even though it was an unexpected and peculiar conversation to have with Kakashi. “I don’t feel qualified. I’m a soldier, not a politician. I have no idea why I was chosen.”

“You were chosen because they think you can be taught,” said Kakashi. “You’re not going to know what you’re doing until you’re there, but neither would anyone else. No one goes into a Kage position feeling ready, unless they’re deluding themselves or are too arrogant to learn how to do what’s best for the village. Everyone has to learn what they’re doing through experience, and even you can’t deny that you’re a quick learner.”

The advice was bizarre to hear from Kakashi (because what could Kakashi have even known about the subject?), but Minato was so nervous that he didn’t question it. “Learning means making mistakes, and Hokage is a risky position to make mistakes in.”

“And, you’re going to make them. It’s going to be hard and complicated, and it’s a lot of responsibility. But, no one is making you do it alone. There are going to be people there to help you and teach you. Plus, you have something that no other candidate would have.”

“Which is?”

“You give the people of Konoha hope. And, more than anything, that’s what they need right now.” Before Minato could say anything else, Kakashi stood. “I was sent to come fetch you, by the way. We’re supposed to be meeting everyone, and I’m sure they’re wondering where the hell we are.”

“Right,” said Minato, getting to his feet. Oddly, he felt a little better, and the rest of the day did not seem as laborious as it did before. “Well, let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

* * *

 

“Where the hell were you two?” asked Tsunade, when Kakashi and Minato finally joined up with the group—her, Jiraiya, Kushina, and Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha—at a table they snagged off Second Street. “I caught up with InoShikaCho, met their wives, and still got back before you did.”

“Got lost on the path of life,” said Kakashi.

“Now that you’re here,” said Kushina, standing. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but a drink or five is my future.”

“We need to start separating you and Tsunade,” muttered Jiraiya.

“Is that you volunteering to wait with the table, Jiraiya?” asked Tsunade, standing, too.”

“I don’t want anything,” said Mikoto. “So, I’ll hold the table.”

“I’ll wait with you,” said Fugaku, taking out his wallet. “If someone wouldn’t mind grabbing me a sake or something.”

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” asked Kushina jokingly. But, when Mikoto and Fugaku exchanged a look, her eyes went wide and lit up. “Wait, _what_?”

“Don’t say anything,” said Mikoto, quieting her down. “Because I’m only two months along, but, yes—” With another look over to her husband, she smiled. “—we’re having another one.”

Everyone gave their congratulations, and it was bizarre for Kakashi to give his while mentally acknowledging that he got an impulsive, memorial tattoo that was one-thirds dedicated to her unborn child only hours before. However, the relief far outshone any awkwardness. As he, Jiraiya, and Tsunade exchanged glances, Kakashi couldn’t keep a smile off his face.

_We haven’t left you._

“In that case,” said Minato, to Fugaku. “Your drink is on me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Jiraiya, clapping Minato on the shoulder. “I’ve got first round.”

Grabbing her husband’s hand, Kushina led the charge of drink-buyers through the quickly-growing crowd. Jiraiya threw one arm over Kakashi’s shoulders and the other over Tsunade’s, steering them after her. The latter two put up a show of protesting Jiraiya’s show of affection, for their own egos, but it didn’t last long. Laughing, the five of them went out into the night, with the other two members of their party smiling fondly as they watched them leave.

Even though it was preceded by tragedy, the memory itself was picture-perfect. It was a snapshot into a life that was far simpler than their reality. A life where they were just a normal group of friends who could celebrate without a care in the world. Later—and there would be a later, an afterward, a moment when peace suddenly became nothing more than a memory, because their worlds were not nearly as kind as the memory, on its own, would suggest—they would all wish that they could have, in the moment, somehow savored it more, because that night was the last time, on this side of the afterlife, that the seven of them were all together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for making it this far, folks! Let us know what you think by leaving a review!
> 
>  **Fun Fact of the Chapter:** (NOTE: This chapter was originally published right after J.K. Rowling dropped her 'Dumbledore and Grindelwald were banging like a screen door in a hurricane' article, so it made a little more sense then in context) As this and the next chapter were originally combined, our intended fun fact had to move to chapter 5. We couldn't actually think of a good, new fun fact for the first half, so in honor of J.K. Rowling, here are a bunch of Once More with Feeling facts you now have to acknowledge as canon:
> 
>   * **Danzo has a third nipple**
>   * **Emon Uchiha is a flat-earther.**
>   * **Approximately 5% of all hospital visits in Konoha are by ninja who've injured themselves trying out ridiculous, jutsu-involved sex acts. The Third Hokage has made 8 such visits this year alone.**
>   * **The Mist has an organ-trafficking problem**
> 



	5. Blame it on a Rise of Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOWDY, PARTNERS, WE GOT ANOTHER CHAPTER UP IN TWO WEEKS. NOW, THAT'S CUSTOMER SERVICE, BABY.
> 
> (We always do joke author’s notes before writing real ones, just to amuse ourselves, but there was really no topping this one. Thank you to all you lovely people who reviewed. We spend a lot of time on this, and we’re really appreciative of your feedback. Also, hey, our first simultaneous release with ffn.)
> 
>  **Content Warnings** : Just as a heads up, we’re not going to consistently warn about violence, unless it’s particularly heinous in nature. This is an action story involving ninja, so just assume that violence can occur at any time. Other than that, warnings for brief animal cruelty, descriptions of panic attacks and PTSD, and the abuse of story structure.
> 
>  **Previously on Once More with Feeling** : After Kakashi tells Jiraiya and Tsunade about the future, they agree to work together to kill Danzō. The three of them go undercover in the Akatsuki, calling themselves Yoshiki, Raiden, and Yoshiko, and they take Shizune, Tenzō, and Kabuto with them. They stay for a month and a half, before telling Yahiko that Hanzō was planning on betraying them and agreeing to go back to Konoha. Tsunade comes home for the first time in a decade and is welcomed enthusiastically, but she is still uneasy about her return. She becomes coordinator of the hospital, Kakashi works to get Tenzō and Kabuto used to Konoha, and Jiraiya starts writing his book. At Kakashi’s request, Rin and Obito get to know Shizune, and the three of them become friends. On their fifth day back, one of the Uchiha elders, Hiromu Uchiha, kills herself, because it comes to light that her son, Yoichiro, is not her husband’s. Threatening to kill the Uchiha clan, Yoichiro Uchiha abandons the village and is marked as a missing-nin. Because Kakashi is asked to look after Itachi Uchiha during this time, Danzō and ROOT start watching his apartment. As Obito mourns the death of Hiromu, he and Kakashi reconnect. Kakashi and gang worry that Yoichiro will be chosen as the next Tobi, but agree that it’s best to not chase after him. Jiraiya asks Kakashi to stamp one of his teleportation seals onto an envelope. Then, the war ends, and Kakashi confronts the fact that his former students are gone. In grief, he gets a tattoo of the kanji symbol for the number seven from a sketchy artist named Skimbops Marquis. Minato is asked to be Hokage, and Mikoto Uchiha reveals that she’s pregnant. Now, without further ado...

**Blame it On a Rise of Power**

**AKA**

**“Nina Cried Power” By Hozier**

(Shot Heard Round the World)

EXTERIOR THE WORLD — LATE DECEMBER

KONOHA’S YELLOW FLASH, Minato Namikaze, Fourth Hokage elect, as terrifying and powerful as a typhoon in the heart of the season, like lightning on a field—responds to the earth’s summons and his name is whispered in the wind, and then sharply said, and then screamed in anger until his opposer’s throats are raw.

EXTERIOR KONOHA — NIGHT

The ripples start in Konoha, where the news of the Third’s retirement breaks first, before trembling outward into the great beyond. War is hell and the people are broken, but Hiruzen is _theirs_ , they insist. Their voices are loud, objecting, scandalized. The Third can hardly get a word in to soothe their fears, to insist that this is for the best; though he is silently uncertain, because Minato is young and and his people have endured more than they should have had to, it is a secret he is prepared to take to his grave. From the sidelines, Danzō watches and is pleased by his old teammate’s scrambling.

In his house, Minato waits with his wife in the dark. He is not hiding, he is not that kind of man, refusing to back down from what awaits him outside. But, the Third insisted that his presence is better left unseen tonight. Tomorrow, he will face them, but for now, he gently runs his fingers through his wife’s hair, as if she is the one that needs reassuring. Kushina interlocks his fingers with her own.

EXTERIOR SUNA — NIGHT

The quakes of the news have carried ( _Konoha’s Yellow Flash, Konoha’s Yellow Flash, Konoha’s Yellow Flash_ ), and the people of Suna begin to panic. Their village was nearly decimated by the war, left in financial ruin, and he is an easy figure to blame. He was only following orders, the real blame further up the chain, but he became the face of Konoha’s part in the Third Great Conflict. Minato is an unstoppable force that leaves death in his wake, and now he is to lead the village that crushed them in the first place. They wonder why the power they once had has forsaken them.

Taking to the streets, the people of Suna protest in front of their Kage, begging with him, pleading with him to do something. The Fourth Hokage can not be accepted, because what might become of the Sand Village, then? What might be left of the Sand Village, then? How will their families be fed, then? How might their children survive, then?

Their Kazekage does not have an answer for them, though his heart breaks with them, because he knows there is nothing to be done. Minato Namikaze will rise to his appointed role and direct the will of Konoha. There is a bitter taste in his mouth knowing that the war was for naught. Looking at his own two children, he is afraid for them and their futures, and with the One-Tails in his possession, he begins to form a plan.

EXTERIOR AME — NIGHT

The world is shaking, and Yahiko can feel it crystal clear beneath his feet. He’s always had a knack for that. Though he has no opinion on Minato’s nomination (though the world is reeling, Jiraiya vouches for him, which is enough for Yahiko), he _is_ an opportunist. He takes his people onto the streets and their voices cry out into the night, petitioning for peace with a unified message. With the poise of someone much older, he leads them onward. Their shouts amplify like their numbers are much larger than they are, yet they blend like they are one.

Yahiko (whispering to his organization, rousing their spirits in the freezing rain): _We will rise as the dawn._

(Hush Little Baby)

As she walked back to the cold examination room where Kushina awaited her, Tsunade held good news in her hands and bad news on her tongue. Greeted by Kushina’s hopeful face and her reluctant excitement, yearning to hope but scared to be let down, Tsunade wanted desperately to stop at the good. Kushina did not deserve the bad, did not deserve anything close to it. Rage burned in Tsunade’s heart for her: at Danzō, Madara, Kaguya, all of them.

But, she learned long ago that the good were not spared from the tragedies of their world. Usually, they were the first to be knocked down.

“Congratulations,” said Tsunade, and she was surprised to find that her smile was only half-forced. Despite everything, Tsunade was happy for her and Minato, and she was relieved for both the world and Kakashi that Naruto would arrive as expected. “You’re pregnant.”

“I’m going to be a mom?” asked Kushina, eyes widening as if checking to see if she was pregnant was not the intended subject of today’s doctor’s visit. “I’m going to be a mom!”

Even though the situation was not Tsunade’s fault, she was overwhelmed with guilt all the same. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then, I need you to do something for me.” Tsunade placed her hands comfortingly on the sides of Kushina’s arms. “You can’t tell anyone that you’re pregnant. And, I don’t mean just the general public. I mean _anyone_ , except for Minato. Not the Third Hokage, not any of the council, not any other medical-nin. _No one_.”

Kushina’s smile started to die, holding on only by a thread, and she studied Tsunade for a moment. “You’re afraid,” she noted. “And angry. What happened?”

“Kakashi, Jiraiya, and I need to tell you something. But, we have to wait until Minato is sworn in as Hokage.”

“If the Third Hokage and the village elders can’t know, what the hell is he about to be sworn in to?”

“A mess,” admitted Tsunade. Now was not the time for lies. Not to her. If they were about to finish off their five-man team of ‘people who knew about the future,’ there needed to be honesty all around. “But, if he doesn’t take it, the village is going to be in a lot of danger. I swear, though, we won’t let him go in alone.”

“Is this why you came back?”

“Sort of. That’s a complicated story that will make more sense later.” Frowning, Kushina continued to examine her. “Look, the three of us would do whatever we could to protect you and Minato. You know that, right?” Kushina nodded. “We’re doing this to save both of you, because if we don’t, you and a lot of other people are going to die. _Do you trust me?_ ”

“Yes,” said Kushina, after several seconds of deliberation. “Yes, of course, I trust you.”

“Then, swear to me you won’t tell anyone, and you will make sure Minato does the same thing.”

“I swear.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Tsunade was still trying to gather herself from what had just happened and what would happen soon, and she suspected Kushina was doing the same. Taking a deep breath, Tsunade tried to quiet the rage still burning towards those who would harm Kushina, but she was unsuccessful; she was not certain that she would _ever_ be successful until Naruto was born, and Minato and Kushina, at least in regards to Kaguya, were out of harm’s way for a while.

In a gesture of needing reassurance, Kushina pulled Tsunade into a tight hug. Tsunade returned it, giving it to her.

“I’m really sorry,” said Tsunade.

“Do you think everything will be okay?” asked Kushina.

“Yes.” She hoped the uncertainty she felt did not show through her tone. “Or, Jiraiya, Kakashi, and I are going to die trying.”

“Please don’t die,” said Kushina. “I love you, you know? You’re the only family I’ve got left.”

“Love you, too.” For the first time in over a decade, Tsunade felt like a big sister again, and her thoughts wandered to Nawaki. A painful ache jolted through her, and after a few more seconds, Tsunade pulled away. “For now, your diagnosis is the flu. In a couple weeks, we’re going to upgrade it to leukemia.”

“Leukemia is a little extreme.”

“We need to keep you down for a little over nine months and make sure you can’t have most visitors. Leukemia is a good way to do that. When Minato is ready to talk, tell him to come to me and ask if I know anything about your blood test results. We’re all being watched, have been for a while, so we have to be very careful.”

“Right,” said Kushina, still dazed.

“Hey,” said Tsunade. “You’re still going to be a mother. Hold on to that, alright?”

“I’m going to be a mother,” repeated Kushina, and she gave a tense but genuine smile. “Wow…a mother, you know?”

(Such a Dick Move)

During Minato’s coronation, Tsunade, Jiraiya, and, unknowingly unwelcome, Orochimaru stood near the front (Kakashi, for Tenzō’s sake, was somewhere in the back with both he and Kabuto). Once it was over, the Fourth Hokage looked at them and smiled. To anyone else, the smile would have seemed wholly confident, but Tsunade knew the wariness it must have contained. Laying low, she, Jiraiya, and Kakashi had not spoken to Minato since Kushina’s pregnancy confirmation, and they agreed it was best to give him nothing more than a brief congratulations until he was ready to talk for real. Even so, the smile Tsunade returned to Minato was genuine, her pride beaming through the dread.

Tsunade was not expecting to see him for at least a couple days afterward, and she had no intentions of pressing. They still had time to discuss killing Danzō, and Tsunade knew his curiosity and the urgency of the situation would break him before that time was up. With the graveness of the news, it was far better that they discussed everything on his time than theirs.

To her surprise, however, he showed up at her office only a few hours after the ceremony.

“Well, well,” said Tsunade, leaning back in her chair and grinning. “Our new Hokage honors me with his presence.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “How did I do?”

“Better than most would have, I imagine. If today was anything to go by, everyone’s warming up to the idea of you being Hokage.”

A brief smile flashed across his face, but it dwindled quickly. “I’m less worried about what the people of Konoha think than what the rest of the world thinks. I’ve heard the rumors. It seems like the entire world is watching.”

“I’d wait until you actually step foot in the Hokage office before worrying about foreign policy,” said Tsunade. “Nothing’s likely to escalate in twenty-four hours, and if it does, we’re fucked anyway. Besides, I’d worry about stabilizing Konoha before other countries.”

“Kakashi Hatake, of all people, has had me worrying about foreign policy for months now.”

“Do you often take political advice from Kakashi?” asked Tsunade, raising an eyebrow. Though, it was not as if she could talk—Kakashi had also had her worrying about foreign policy for months now—but at least she knew he was from the future and actually knew what he was talking about.

“He has a lot of feelings about foreign policy.”

Tsunade snorted. “That is _very_ true. But, I think even he would say you have to worry about Konoha first.”

“I was meaning to ask,” he said abruptly, making it clear they had gotten to the real reason for his visit. “Have you found out anything about Kushina’s test results?”

“Yes.” Hesitating, she was caught in a no man’s land between relief that he wanted to talk about it and already dreading it. “I need to talk to you and Kushina about it, preferably at your place. I’d still rather her not leave the house for now. But, let’s wait twenty-four hours. Today’s not the day for those kinds of things.”

“If something’s wrong, shouldn’t we know as soon as possible?”

“Wait twenty-four hours,” she insisted. “Commemorate today however you’d like. Go home to your wife, tell her how well everything went, get some sleep, and start your first day as Hokage with a clear head. We can talk tomorrow evening.”

“Eight o’clock, then?” he asked, and she nodded.

* * *

 

To not arouse suspicion, Tsunade waited until morning before going to the records room, checking out Tenzō’s file, and making copies of some of his labs. As they were nearly two weeks old, Kakashi had already seen them, but an onlooker wouldn’t know the difference.

“Hey,” greeted Kakashi, when he let her into his apartment. He turned to Tenzō, who was the only other person there; Kabuto was, presumably, at school. “Go return your library books and check out new ones. You’re almost ready to move up a reading level.”

“Kakashi,” said Tenzō, narrowing his eyes. “Do you like Kabuto more than me because I’m not human?”

The question was so bizarre that neither Tsunade nor Kakashi could think of a coherent response. “ _What_?” asked Kakashi.

“You always make me read,” said Tenzō. “But, when you want Kabuto to leave the apartment so you can talk to someone, you tell him to go play with friends.”

“Well, first off, you won’t _make_ any friends. Second, going back to the human part—what the hell are you talking about?”

“I saw a book in the library that had a cover with a man in a giant test tube, just like I was. When I asked the librarian lady what it was about, she said it was about a scientist who made fake humans by gluing pieces of other people together and zapping them with a lightning jutsu.”

“She did tell you it was just a story, right?”

Tenzō nodded. “But, she said that the fake human was an experiment, and you said _I_ was an experiment. Have you ever met anyone else who even came out of a test tube?”

“Tenzō, you came out of a test tube because someone put you there.”

“But how do you _know_? I don’t have any memories from before.”

“You can talk, can’t you?” asked Kakashi. “Even fake humans have to learn how to talk.”

“They do?” asked Tenzō hopefully.

“Yup. Which means that if you already knew how to talk when we got you out, someone must have taught you to talk beforehand.”

“Besides, even if you weren’t born like other kids,” said Tsunade. “Which you were, but even if you walk away from here afraid that you weren’t, all kids are basically created in test tubes. You’ve seen pregnant women, right? They’ve got something like a test tube inside of them that children grow in until they’re ready to be born. So, you wouldn’t be less than anyone else anyway.”

“Oh,” said Tenzō, thinking on that for a moment. “How do they get there?”

“This is getting off topic,” said Kakashi, glaring at her. She cringed, regretting her lack of forethought. “No, Tenzō, I don’t like Kabuto better than you. I just want you to catch up to other nine-year-olds so you can be put in the Academy when the time comes. And, no, you aren’t a fake human. Now, go return your library books so I can talk to Tsunade.”

Giving in, Tenzō gathered his books and left the apartment. Though there was still the shadow of sullenness on his face, not wanting to read, he did look less inclined to shout into the sky about the nature of his creation.

“Whatever you’re about to say,” said Kakashi, his face growing pink when he noticed her grinning. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“You’ve just become so domestic,” she said to irk him, as they sat down at his kitchen table. “I think it’s sweet.”

“And you’ve become so bureaucratic,” he said, for the same purpose, nodding towards the file folder in her hand. “Practicing for Minato’s resignation, already?” Completely prepared for it, when a flash of anger struck her and she threw the folder at him like a kunai, he ducked out of the way easily. It embedded itself into the cabinet behind him. The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he grinned, but they faded as quickly as they arrived. “He’s growing restless—Tenzō. And moody. He doesn’t like being stuck inside here, even more so than the Rain. I think he knows what he’s missing, now.”

“You think he’ll do something stupid?”

Kakashi shook his head. “He’s a smart boy. He knows what there is to lose. But, it’s not conducive to integrating him into Konoha or to his social development.”

But, despite the stress of caring for an irritable kid all day and their rapidly approaching day of reckoning, Tsunade could not help but notice that Kakashi looked better than he had since she’d known him. As he was once Hokage, she assumed he was the type to do well under pressure, but he seemed to grow pronouncedly more confident and focused the closer the day to return to the Rain became. Some of the color returned to his face, and though he was often deep in thought, it was more calculated than it was distracted.

“It’ll all be over soon, at least,” said Tsunade. “Speaking of, our new Hokage is ready to talk. I’m going at eight tonight, but you and Jiraiya should wait until fifteen after, so I can take Kushina’s bloodwork, close up the house, and get a barrier going.”

Kakashi reached backwards, grabbed the file folder, placed a seal on it, and handed it back to her. “We’ll be there,” he said, and then just as nonchalantly, despite the gravity of the subject matter: “You know, you don’t have to stay. You’ve already heard it, once. It’ll be a boring few hours.”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course, I’m staying.” She was not surprised that he offered it, though she was mildly offended that he might have suspected she’d take it. “I do hate that we have to tell them. They deserve a truth that’s so much better, you know?”

“It’ll be alright,” he said. “Maybe not at first, but they’ll be okay. It’s not what they deserve, but they’ll be okay.”

“I want to save them more than anything,” she confessed. “So, I know that we have to tell them, because we have to save them. But, it’s just…such a dick move.”

* * *

 

_“They told me you would be stopping by,” she said, appearing from the back room._

_Her beauty was breathtaking, unexpected, like stepping out into the first frost of the year. With the mystery of a winter’s night, she leaned against the door frame, and her near-black curls fell loosely over her snowy curves. Icy in both color and demeanor, her eyes met his. Her alluring coldness captivated him, and he couldn’t look away. The author began to suspect that he, himself, might have an unexplored sexual attraction to weather conditions—_

Sighing, Jiraiya wadded up his piece of paper and tossed it into the trash can, which was on the edge of overflowing due to similar rejects.

 _Her boobs were like boobs,_ began Jiraiya, on a fresh sheet of paper. _Which don’t need any description, because it is a known fact that everyone likes boobs, and therefore no one needs convincing—_

The sentence was mercifully cut short by a knock on his apartment door. After disposing of his new sheet of paper, Jiraiya looked through the hole in his door and saw Kakashi standing on the other side.

“Give me a second,” said Jiraiya, loud enough that Kakashi could hear him.

Quickly, Jiraiya attempted to clear the numerous stacks of paper that littered his kitchen table and lay open on his counters. There were too many to put them completely out of sight, but he did manage to make sure everything was piled in a way that made sure Kakashi could not catch a glimpse of anything. While most of it was just drabblings to get a better feel for the tone of the story, that would never make it into the final draft, the samples were rough and made him self-conscious, particularly around Kakashi.

After one last look-around, Jiraiya finally let him inside.

“Minato is ready to talk,” said Kakashi. “We’re meeting at the Namikazes’ at eight-fifteen.”

“Good,” said Jiraiya, even though it wasn’t. “I’m ready to get this over with.”

“Is this…?” asked Kakashi, gesturing around at the disaster before them. Jiraiya nodded. “How’s it going?”

“Poorly. I’m beginning to think that you’re lying about the future, because if anything I write manages to be best-selling, the literary market has gone to hell.” Lips pressed tightly together in a crooked frown, Jiraiya picked up four pieces of paper off the counter, separated them into two piles, and gave them both to Kakashi. “Here. Read these two beginnings and tell me which you like better.”

Kakashi read over them slowly, pausing several times to look up at Jiraiya. Meanwhile, Jiraiya watched him like a hawk, trying to ascertain everything he could from Kakashi’s reactions. It was stressful enough for _anyone_ to try and read his writing, so trying to gain Kakashi’s approval was a particularly nerve-wracking experience. With his future knowledge, Kakashi, in many ways, knew his writing better than anyone on the planet.

“I like this one the most,” said Kakashi, waving the one in his right hand.

 _Damn_ , thought Jiraiya. He didn’t _not_ like that beginning, but it meant that he had to cut a later scene he really enjoyed.

“So, go with this one,” said Kakashi, waving the one in his left hand, and Jiraiya was afraid he might have sworn aloud.

“What? Why?”

“Because you looked disappointed when I picked the other one.”

“Yes, but if the other is the best—”

“I didn’t actually read either of them,” said Kakashi. “I just wanted to know which one you liked the most.”

“You motherfucker,” said Jiraiya. “How am I supposed to know which one is going to make a better novel?”

“You already know.”

“I’m not exactly known for my ability to write best-selling novels in this timeline.”

“Jiraiya, you’re the best storyteller I’ve ever met,” said Kakashi. “And you have yet to write a novel I haven’t liked. You hit a market failure with your last book, but I’ve already told you what the right market is.  Trust your instincts.”

The blatant fondness of the compliment, a rarity from Kakashi, took Jiraiya off guard, and he was almost certain that it was the nicest thing anyone had said to him in a long time. “At least read that one first, before you tell me to commit to it.”

For real this time, Kakashi scanned through the copy in his left hand. “Interesting.”

“How close is it to my book last time?”

“I’ll tell you once you’ve published this one.”

“You’re the worst fucking beta reader imaginable.”

“Yes, I like this one,” said Kakashi, ignoring him and handing both drafts back. “But, rewrite paragraph three. You can do better.”

Reading it back over, Jiraiya concurred. It wasn’t quite “her boobs were like boobs” bad, but it didn’t match the quality of the rest of it.

“You know,” said Kakashi, just as casual. “You don’t have to stay tonight. You’ve already heard it once. It’ll be a boring few hours.”

“You’re an idiot,” said Jiraiya, refusing to even entertain the idea. “For better or for worse, this is our shared clusterfuck.” Narrowing his eyes, Jiraiya studied him. “Are you ready?”

“Enough,” said Kakashi, sounding more convinced than Jiraiya suspected he felt. Still, Jiraiya noticed that Kakashi looked better than he had in weeks, more certain of himself. Pressure and action suited him, it seemed. “I’ve planned all I can, at any rate.”

“They trust the three of us a lot,” said Jiraiya. “Which is better than you had last time, with Tsunade and I. We’ve had worse odds. Nothing but worse odds, really.”

Still, his words did not settle his own fears about tonight: what was at stake and what could go wrong. Jiraiya suspected the next few hours would move far too slowly, decelerated by the mental image of the horror on their faces. After all, they deserved so much better, and he wished he could give it to them.

“I wish we didn’t have to do this,” confessed Jiraiya. “We have to do it—it was my idea—but it’s such a dick move.”

* * *

 

As instructed, Kakashi teleported himself and Jiraiya to the house at eight-fifteen, using the folder he gave to Tsunade as the anchor. In the blink of an eye, they went seamlessly from Jiraiya’s place to the Namikazes’ living room, which was engulfed in a barrier to prevent any sound from escaping. Tsunade and Kushina were on the couch, the former bandaging the latter’s arm.

“Is everything secure?” asked Kakashi. Tsunade nodded. “Where’s Minato?”

“In the kitchen,” she said. “Making tea and putting some of the blood samples in the freezer.”

“Delicious,” said Jiraiya, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Nothing like frozen blood in the morning.”

“It’s to preserve them, dumbass.”

Where it usually would have continued, the bantering died there. The tense air in the room and the melancholy, worried look on Kushina’s face made their usual coping mechanism seem inappropriate.

Once Tsunade was finished with her bandaging and placed all her supplies back in her medical bag, she stepped out of the barrier and into the kitchen. After a few minutes, she and Minato came back with five cups of tea. They dispersed them, and everyone sat down, Kakashi on the floor.

“Well,” said Minato quietly, after a few moments of silence, no one in the mood for small talk. Like Kushina, he seemed stressed and somber, but while it rendered her dazed, it brought about an air of authority to him. Not dangerous, for Kushina was deadly, too, and he did not seem threatened by them in the slightest. Nor did he hold himself in arrogance. But, the Hokage position suited him, and though he had to know the pain that likely awaited them, he had the grace of someone who knew his own power and was inspired to do something with it. Minato looked so much like Naruto that it made Kakashi’s chest ache, but he reminded him of Sasuke in his better moments—what Sasuke could have been. “Are you going to tell us what you found three and a half months ago?”

But, despite Minato’s presence, Kakashi was once Hokage, too. In some moments, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he still was, and he was not the type to be outdone by someone who nearly felt like a kid. Though he was sitting on the floor, lower than everyone else, he did not allow his posture to diminish. He did not feel certain of anything, but he was used to that feeling; it was part of being Hokage. So, by instinct, he radiated out the self-assured composure that being the Sixth brought, easily matching the man in front of him.

“I’m not sure I would use the word ‘found,’” said Kakashi. “But, yes, this is about what happened the morning of the Kannabi Bridge mission. Obviously, the three of us have been…different, ever since.”

“Despite what you’ve convinced everyone,” said Minato. “I know you’re the one who recruited Jiraiya, not the other way around. Was it your idea to recruit Tsunade, too?”

“It was.”

“So, how much of the mission report that Jiraiya gave to the Third Hokage was a lie?”

“Besides the fact that Tsunade, Shizune, Jiraiya, and I met up with one another, all of it. We did not go to gather information, and we instead spent the entire time in the Rain. Tenzō and Kabuto are not my blood relatives. We acquired them at the start of our mission, not at the end, and brought them along.”

“Why—” Minato gave him an odd, narrow-eyed look, though it was not quite one of suspicion. “—why tell Jiraiya and Tsunade but not me?”

 _Hurt_ , Kakashi realized. _He feels hurt._

“You’re young,” admitted Kakashi. “Younger than you know.”

“Kakashi, you’re thirteen.”

“I’m not, though. That’s the problem.” It was time, now, to get on with it. Still, every part of him was protesting it, and he shook his head and muttered the mantra of the evening: “This is such a dick move.”

(Greatest Goddamn Medical Ninja)

Though she was better prepared for it, Tsunade found it worse to hear about the future for the second time. If she had to guess, Jiraiya and Kakashi did, too. Without the overwhelming shock, Tsunade was left with all the the other negative emotions that naturally arose from the events: rage, sadness, betrayal, and, loathe as she was to admit it, paralyzing fear. Hearing about Minato’s and Kushina’s deaths with them in the room crushed her, and that was only the beginning. The Orochimaru bits and the end of the world were no less horrifying than last time. Several events—the Uchiha Massacre, the problems Naruto faced, and all of the Obito stuff—were even worse due to the Namikazes’ presence. Tsunade found it difficult to even look at them.

Kakashi paced across the room for a large portion of it. Despite being the one to tell the story, there were long periods of time where Kakashi didn’t make eye contact with any of them, speaking to the walls and the ceiling instead. When it came time to introduce the beginning of his career as Team Seven’s jōnin-sensei, he gave a short, half-mad laugh, apologized, and continued his account in a far more mechanical way than he began it. Tsunade had not looked for it last time, hardly believing it, but this time, it was easy to see the age in Kakashi’s demeanor—the tiredness of someone nearing middle-age.

Jiraiya, though he put on a tough exterior, spent the entire time rapidly looking between all of them, nearly frantic. Every once in a while, however, Tsunade looked over to find him staring off somewhere past Kakashi, his mind far away from the current scene. She wondered, just to distract herself, if he was thinking about his book. She wondered what it might be about.

Largely, Minato and Kushina just stared at Kakashi in unmoving, open-mouthed terror.

None of them stayed afterward, as to let Minato and Kushina deal with everything in peace. Almost as soon as it was over and it was made clear that no one had any questions, Kakashi teleported himself and Jiraiya back to the latter’s apartment. Tsunade remained only long enough to grab her bag and the blood samples, before disappearing out their front door into the chilly, night air.

She intended to only drop off the blood samples at the hospital and go straight back to her own apartment to sleep the day off. However, with rage leftover from the future-account, the blood vials and her inability to look at them infuriated her. They were her biggest weakness, the thing keeping her from being a proper contributor to their world-saving cause—their Kushina-and-Minato-saving cause. The mere knowledge of their existence made her want to throw the nearest chair through the wall of the hospital laboratory.

The two technicians working the night shift, though, would have taken offense to that. Her reputation with the hospital staff, given her sudden return, rough start, and complete takeover, all while being unable to actually _practice_ medicine, was already rocky. So, she refrained.

“Don’t touch these samples,” said Tsunade to the two technicians. “They’re mine.”

Knowing that Kakashi would not leave Jiraiya’s place immediately, as to provoke as little suspicion towards their coordination as possible, Tsunade rushed over to Jiraiya’s part of town, hoping to catch both of them.

“Yo,” said Jiraiya, opening the door with a raised eyebrow. Behind him, Kakashi sat on his couch, hunched over a small stack of papers, and his eyes flickered up to meet hers. “Fancy seeing you at this hour.”

Though it seemed like a good idea on the way over, her courage was starting to falter. A shiver wracked through her body, and she tried to pass it off as a byproduct of the weather. “Will you two help me with something?”

* * *

 

As it was nearing midnight, the section of the hospital used for routine doctor’s visits was completely empty, and all the lights were off. Tsunade unlocked the door to wing, let the three of them inside, and went to flip on the lights, but one of the jōnin sentries stopped her.

“Lady Tsunade,” he greeted. “We’ve already pulled our guard from the wing for the night. If you’re going to use it, would you like us to send them back?”

 _Do you even know who the fuck we are?_ she wanted to ask, but it seemed unfairly bitchy towards someone who was just doing the job that she personally assigned them to do. So, instead, she said, “I’m sure we can manage, thank you. For now, keep to your post. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

“So bureaucratic,” whispered Kakashi, once the jōnin was out of earshot, and she sent him a glare.

Tsunade led him and Jiraiya to the office furthest from the door. She could not articulate why the distance made her feel better, because it was not as if someone outside the wing could see or hear inside any of the offices unless one of them started screaming, to which they would hear regardless. But, the distance _did_ make her feel better, and for the sake of getting through her exercise, she allowed herself the one thing.

“Alright, Jiraiya,” she said, not looking at either of them as she gathered her supplies. “You’re first.”

“Why me?” asked Jiraiya, though from his tone it was clear he was not actually protesting, just engaging in banter.

“Because, you’ve got the largest veins.” Tsunade could almost _feel_ him smirking, and when she heard a slight intake of breath, she added: “Whatever’s about to come out of your mouth better stay there.”

Kakashi snorted. “Well, you know what they say; it’s not the size of the vein, it’s how you use—”

Before he could finish, Tsunade picked up a roll of gauze and, still not looking, threw it at his face. The roll hit the door with a thud, and he gently tossed it back to her.

“You two are disgusting,” she said.

“I didn’t even say anything,” protested Jiraiya, with a smile in his voice.

“You thought it. It was enough.”

“I didn’t know we were so telepathically connected.”

“Far more than I’d like, at least.” Crass as they were, Jiraiya and Kakashi were intentionally doing a good job of distracting her from her nerves. Desperate to not let the conversation die, she hastily thought of something else to say. “All the paper everywhere—that the book?” Jiraiya hummed in confirmation. “How’s it going?”

“The last sentence I wrote unironically started with ‘her boobs were like boobs,’ if that tells you anything.”

“Your maturity is astounding,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I read _Tales of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi_ , by the way. It was good.”

There was a pause. “You read _Tales_?” asked Jiraiya.

“I’m offended that you sound surprised.”

“I’m mostly surprised you enjoyed it, to be honest.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because _no one_ enjoyed _Tales_ ,” said Jiraiya. “You’ve just joined a very lonely club, which, funny enough, has the same members as another club we just joined.”

“Hiruzen-sensei didn’t like it?” asked Tsunade, not wanting to dwell on Minato and Kushina.

“Neither he nor I have ever acknowledged that I’ve published a book in the other’s presence, so as far as I know, he hasn’t read it.”

“I’m sure he has.” Before finding out about the future, she would have said it with certainty. But, she also would have said the phrase ‘Hiruzen-sensei would not knowingly let someone in power repeatedly commit treason and fuck over Konoha’s citizens in the process’ with certainty, so she was not sure what she could and could not accurately assess about her old teacher. Frowning, she finally turned towards him. “Alright, sit down and roll up your sleeve.”

“When you say ‘good,’” he said, doing as she asked. “Do you mean ‘I would read another book by this guy’ good? Or only, ‘I got through this without physical pain’ good?”

Her mind processed the question, but it was unable to form a response. Though she had yet to even prep his arm, an overwhelming haziness crashed over her, and her heart rate rapidly quickened. She looked during all the preliminary work for Kushina, so until she picked up a needle, this was nothing she hadn’t done a few hours ago. However, knowing that the goal was _not_ to look away at the crucial moment was enough to throw her off.

“Good,” she repeated stupidly. In trying to focus on the task at hand, her mind reverted back to default. “Can you verify your name and date of birth?”

“Jiraiya,” he said slowly. “November eleventh, in the year you’ve forbidden me from speaking aloud.”

To confirm his identity, she reached over, grabbed the empty vial she prepared, and inspected the sticker on it. Or, as she found, the lack thereof, because there was no lab order for the sticker to correspond to.

“Interesting,” she said. “I’ve never had a blood vial verify me as an idiot before.” The entire situation was so embarrassing that she wanted to disappear through the floor, which was saying something, because Jiraiya and Kakashi saw her through a non-insignificant number of personal things over the past few months. There was something intimately mortifying about failing to practice medicine in front of the two of them. “Sorry. Are you, um, allergic to anything?”

“Wasps, but I’m hoping that’s not relevant here.”

“And here I was,” said Kakashi. “About to release a canister in the hospital.”

“It would certainly make this a memorable experience,” said Jiraiya. “I would, of course, develop anaphylaxis. You would, of course, get arrested—”

“He wouldn’t, because I’d kill him first,” said Tsunade. _Step four._ “I’m going to wash my hands, now.”

Taking a breath so deep that her ribs hurt, Tsunade went through the rest of the steps to prepare for a blood draw. Like she hoped, she found a good vein in Jiraiya’s left arm immediately. After that was done, she was left with gloves on her hands and a needle clutched tightly in her fists. Her arms began to shake.

“You good?” asked Jiraiya.

Truthfully, the answer was “no.” Her chest was so tight and her heartbeat was so erratic that she felt like she was having a heart attack. The pain was not radiating, which made an actual cardiovascular event unlikely, but she still felt a sense of doom all the same.

 _Pull yourself together,_ she told herself, taking another breath to try and snap out of it. _This is the same thing you did earlier, and it’ll be even easier, because you’ll actually have a visual._

“I’m fine,” she said. “Clench your hand into a fist.”

Positioning her fingers over his vein, Tsunade slid the needle into his arm. But, her hands were trembling so violently that she missed the vein entirely.

 _Fuckup_.

Jiraiya did not move, sensing from her expression that she did not get it. Without taking the needle out, she gently repositioned it a few times, and on the fourth try, it finally stuck. She did not yet dare look, releasing the tourniquet on his arm first, lest things went south. Then, she placed the unmarked blood vile into place and watched as it filled.

The world began to move in slow motion, and it took a few seconds for the situation to fully register in Tsunade’s mind. Blood poured into the tube, out of Jiraiya, beneath her hands, like it pooled out of Dan on the floor of the forest. The air was cold, then, and she felt goosebumps ripple across her skin. The smell of iron filled the air. She remembered the sound of her voice, could hear it clearly, hoarse from the rawness in her throat, calling out his name, screaming into the ground.

Her hands were wet, his last breath escaped him, and blood overtook the world.

Someone was pulling her backwards, away from Dan. She wanted to struggle against them—she didn’t want to leave him—but every muscle in her body was frozen. Tsunade vaguely registered the disjointed voices around her, one higher and perfectly calm and the other decidedly less so on both accounts. But, she had no idea who they were or what they were saying. The only voice she could clearly make out was her own, begging the universe to give Dan back, begging the person leading her away to let her go. Once the person stopped moving her backwards, they did.

More voices joined the fray, tense, shouting. Were they being attacked again? She wanted to fight back, to defend herself, to run, but she couldn’t move, paralyzed in shock. All she could do was collapse, brought to her knees. The person who guided her away was gone, leaving her alone.

She was going to die here. She was not sure she cared.

“Tell them to shut the fuck up,” said the calm voice, now sharp, now muffled. No longer with her. “Do they not know how to follow orders?” There was a pause. “Yes, yes, I know.”

Her chest erupted in a painful burning like fire. Had she been hit? Was that why the voices abandoned her; she was a lost cause, being left for dead? Was some of the blood on her hands her own?

She was going to die here. She was not sure she cared.

“Tsunade.” The voice returned, once again calm, once again clear. Desperate to make him stay, she grabbed his forearms with an iron-clad grip. “Can you hear me?” She nodded. “Then, I need you to take a deep breath.”

Mostly in hopes that the voice would not attempt to leave her again, that she would not die here alone, she did as he asked, and the inhale stung her chest like a fresh burn.

* * *

 

It took Tsunade forty-five minutes to regain the ability to form coherent sentences, and the first thing she said was, “Well, to state the obvious, that didn’t fucking work.”

Per her request, they had not yet left the hospital, because despite her exhaustion from the experience, she was not ready to give up for the night. Though she did not remember how she got there, she was curled up in the medical-nin’s chair, her knees to her chest and a cup of hot tea in her hands.

Neither of the men were sitting, likely still on edge. Jiraiya stood by the window, leaning on the sill, and Kakashi stood by the door, leaning on the frame.

“Drink your tea, won’t you?” asked Kakashi softly, and she did not fight his request. Whatever happened in reality during the last hour left her throat sore. “You only tried it once. Maybe, it’ll just take time.”

“I’m missing something,” she said. Every part of her ached with fatigue, stress, and regret. “Look, it’s been a long day. You two should go home.”

“Don’t be stupid.” A faint smile reached Kakashi’s eyes. “Of course we’re staying.”

Jiraiya hummed in agreement. “Besides, all I would do is go home and write, and I’m not sure I’m ready to take another blow to my ego.”

With another sip of tea, Tsunade was not sure if she was ashamed or relieved that they were staying with her. Relying on them made her feel revoltingly fragile, but her inability to be a functioning medical-nin made her feel infinitely more so.

“Can you think of anything else that Sakura told you?” asked Tsunade.

“I never paid much attention,” he admitted. “And she never disclosed much about her research unless she needed something. Having you, her, and Shizune, I never even looked at the hospital unless one of you needed a figurehead. But, I do remember that, somehow, exposure was the answer.”

“We can’t actually expose her to what traumatized her, though,” said Jiraiya. “Unless you’re volunteering. Not to mention, I know jack shit about medicine, but I’ve met enough ninja to know that traumas can stack.”

“No, I actually think you’re onto something,” said Tsunade, sorting through Kakashi’s reluctantly shared memories to get inside Sakura Haruno’s head. Her two companions gave her an odd look. “Not with killing Kakashi. I mean, what if ‘exposure’ means that you’re supposed to expose yourself to the memory?”

“Relive it?” asked Jiraiya, and she nodded. “Well…tell us about the memory, then.”

“No,” she said immediately. “That’s—” _Bizarre? Private? Shameful? Awkward? Upsetting? All of the above?_ Even the thought of it made a new wave of anxiety wash over her. “—it’s just, it’s mine. My memory isn’t your problem to deal with.”

“Yeah, but we _want—_ ”

“It was a Tuesday,” interrupted Kakashi.

Even taking the time to process it, Tsunade could not make sense of what he meant. “What?”

“The day I killed Rin,” said Kakashi, after a moment of awkward hesitation. He did not make eye contact with either of them, instead examining the door frame like it was a normal thing to do. “It was a Tuesday. The weather was clear—it hadn’t rained in days—which I thought was a good sign, since we were dealing with ninja from the Mist—”

Though Kakashi had already shared his entire life story with them twice, he only ever presented his experiences in the detached, formal way that one would write a mission report. It was easy enough to connect his current actions with the details in his history and extrapolate from there, but there was never any true humanity in the way he talked about his past. Tsunade _did_ believe him, because she understood why he did it, but the lack of a seeming emotional connection to his memories was the biggest strike against his believability.

But, as he recounted the story of killing Rin in depth to her and Jiraiya, Tsunade felt like, for the first time, she was hearing a genuine memory. Pacing across the floor once again, he described every detail of the experience, even down to the basic senses: what she was wearing, the sound of her screaming, and the smell of killing someone with a concentrated, lightning ball that he was not yet, at the time, used to. It was vivid and horrifying, much like her own memory—the kind of involuntary experience that haunts a person for the rest of their life.

She wondered, as she listened, whether or not he had ever told anyone about it with that level of confessional information. Knowing him, she doubted it.

“—then I got knocked out,” finished Kakashi. “And, you know the rest.”

Taken off-guard, Jiraiya stared at him with an unreadable expression. Though what it was that threw him off, Tsunade could not say for certain: Kakashi’s jarring openness, the lucidity of a memory from a world that was not their own, a new insight gained from the story, or something else entirely. Tsunade was primarily focused on the first. While she knew he was not going pressure her into saying anything, the act of sharing was such a weird, vulnerable gesture from Kakashi, done solely for the purpose of making her feel more comfortable about potentially sharing in turn, that she felt pressured all the same.

“Fine,” she said, almost competitively. “It was a Sunday, and the weather was terrible.”

Unlike Kakashi, Tsunade could not get through her story smoothly, hindered only by microscopic pauses and lack of eye contact. In some ways, the act of describing the memory felt just as real as the memory itself. There were long stretches of time where she said nothing, instead just shivering in her chair until one of them gently prodded her onward, grounding her back into reality.

It was horrible, and she hated both of them for compelling her to do it.

“—and you know the rest,” she finished.

“Good,” said Kakashi. “Now, do it again.”

For a moment, she was quite certain that she would rather pull out her own teeth than repeat it. But, her pride and gnawing need to practice medicine again got the best of her. “ _Fine_ ,” she said, through gritted teeth. “It was a Sunday, and the weather was terrible—”

* * *

 

After Tsunade’s second time through, Kakashi insisted that they break for the evening. It had been a long and emotional night, he reasoned, and she would have a better chance of succeeding if she tried again after some sleep. She didn’t make it into her bed until four, but she knew Kakashi was right in that sleep was necessary after such a night. So, she decided to sleep in and be late for work. The only person she truly answered to was Minato, who wouldn’t even know—who would even chastise her?

A few minutes past eleven, only half an hour after she arrived, Danzō visited her office. After last night, Tsunade couldn’t think of a person she wanted to see less.

“Danzō,” she greeted, a fake smile plastered on her face. “How can I help you this morning?”

“I was talking to our new Hokage,” he said. “And he told me that Kushina Uzumaki is ill—has been for a few weeks. Tell me, when were you planning on informing the council?”

“I don’t even know if it is anything,” said Tsunade. “In fact, it probably isn’t. I’m just being thorough.”

“What are you checking for?”

“You know I can’t discuss patient records without their consent.”

“She’s the Nine-Tails. The council has a right to know.”

“She’s also the Hokage’s wife,” said Tsunade. “I’m not going over his head on this.”

Danzō paused. “Are you sure that it’s wise that you’re handling her care?” he asked. “Given your…state.”

“For someone worried about my state,” she said, poison slipping through her pleasant tone. “It seems rather unwise of you to have put me in charge of the hospital.”

“Let us not pretend that pushing papers around is the same as directly keeping someone alive.” A tint of red blurred across her vision. “You’ve not practiced medicine in nearly ten years.”

“I have caught up on every major medical breakthrough in the last decade,” she said coolly. “So, I’m just as qualified as any senior medical-nin to handle her care.”

“Barring, of course, that you still have yet to practice. Tell me, if I were to, say, slice open my hand in your office, would you be able to keep it together? I’ve heard hospital rumors of your…outburst.”

Her blood was nearly boiling, and she was struggling to contain her urge to grab him by his throat and plunge him through the nearest wall. “Does this have a point, Danzō?”

“Give up Kushina’s case to someone else. She’s a valuable asset to the village. We can’t take any chances.”

“Oh, fuck the Nine-Tails,” said Tsunade, her patience slipping. Danzō raised an eyebrow. “She’s my cousin, so if you think I’m going to sabotage her health in any way, you are sorely mistaken. If I thought I needed help on this, I would have already taken it.”

“Do _you_ honestly believe that you your judgment is the soundest?”

“Yes,” she said, without hesitation. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of hesitation. “Barring, of course, my decision to let you into my office. I am running absolutely everything under the goddamn sun and will be triple-checking all of the results myself. So, no, short of Minato and Kushina personally firing me, I will _not_ be handing over this case to someone else.”

“It is interesting,” said Danzō. “That after a decade, you should turn up to stubbornly return to medicine right before your cousin falls ill.”

“Are you implying that I’m poisoning Kushina or something?” she asked, outraged.

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” said Danzō, still just as even. “Or, if you’re doing anything at all.”

“I suggest you listen carefully.” If anything, Tsunade was not sure it was wise to continue escalating her anger, knowing the entire goal of their current plan was for Danzō to find them as non-suspicious as possible. However, she supposed it would be out of character for her _not_ to be angry, and appearing in character was their best defense against knowing something they shouldn’t. If his whole game was to get a read on her, she refused to give him the real answer. “This is my hospital. I’m here, sitting in this chair, because you don’t know a thing about medicine. So, you will _not_ disrespect me in my own office. As I said, if the Hokage has problems with my job performance, he is free to take that up with me himself.”

“The Fourth has been Hokage for less than forty-eight hours. He has no idea what he’s doing.”

“Does the Third Hokage share these suspicions?”

“Relying on nepotism all around, then?” he asked

“I don’t need nepotism,” she said, standing, now yelling. “I _am_ the greatest goddamn medical ninja on the entire planet.” Before, she might have faltered, but Kakashi’s words, his and Jiraiya’s continued support, and their unwavering belief in her were emboldening her. Now, her strengthened spirit was radiating across the office, and she knew it. “So, I’ll tell you again, if you consider yourself to have any ounce of wisdom, do not disrespect me in my own office. Bring me in front of either the Hokage or the full board, should you find him lacking, if you have any further concerns.”

“You’re as defensive as ever,” said Danzō. “But, a lot changes in a decade. Forgive me if I still can’t be sure you have Konoha’s best interests at heart.”

“I would die for this village.”

“Funny, that’s not the sentiment you were echoing ten years ago, after you abandoned it. You didn’t even bother to come back during the war.” Clearly, he was still trying to get something out of her, was still suspicious of something, but she could not help but feel like he was enjoying it. “Lots of lives were lost that you could have saved. Tell me, do you consider yourself to have selective cowardice or selective caring?”

Refusing to walk out of her own office, Tsunade gripped her desk to keep herself in place, afraid she might be overcome with the urge to punch his skull into the wall. She knew so many ways to painfully kill someone without blood being involved. She could make poisons that could eat him from the inside out, drown him, induce all sorts of torturous medical conditions. But, if she were to kill him, it would be with her fists, because there was not a weapon more distinctly _her_. If there were ever a person to risk it for, it would be him.

Though his words were like a punch to her stomach, she managed to make her own words not sound too breathless. “You _absolute_ c—”

A loud knock on the door interrupted her. “Yo, Tsunade,” said Jiraiya through it. “Do you have my wallet? I can’t find it anywhere. I think I might have left it here last night.”

Secretly, she was glad for it, and she let out a microscopic breath of relief. But, anger was still pulsing in her veins, and her tone was just as sharp when she fired back, “Did no one at the front tell you I was in a meeting?”

“Bold of you to assume I didn’t sneak by the front desk.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” said Danzō. Even Danzō, it seemed, knew not to degrade her in front of Jiraiya. “I look forward to seeing Kushina’s test results.”

With that, Danzō strolled out of the room before she could get a last word in, making only brief eye contact with Jiraiya as he disappeared down the hall. Jiraiya, in turn, entered the office and shut the door behind him.

“What the hell did you do that for?” she asked. Some of the rage still remained, but it was quickly dying, and she allowed herself a few more steadying breaths.

“Well, I did actually go by the front desk,” said Jiraiya, pulling out his wallet. “And they did have my wallet. But, they also told me you were in an impromptu meeting with Danzō. So, _then_ I snuck by the front desk, heard you yelling, and decided to be a dick to him.”

Locking her jaw in place, she shook her head. “Thank you. He’s such a bastard.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, he’s just…a bastard.” She did not dare elaborate there, for fear that Danzō might somehow still be listening. As her mood deflated, Danzō’s words finally started to truly gnaw at her. Proving him wrong seemed just within arms reach and yet still so far away. “I need you and Kakashi to meet me at the hospital again tonight. I have to get it right. I have to.”

* * *

 

That night’s attempt, this time with Kakashi as her test subject, resulted in the same panic attack as the night before. But, it only took thirty minutes to recover, and during their memory-repeating drills afterward, the pauses were less.

“It’s progress,” said Kakashi, putting his hand on her shoulder assuringly, as they got ready to leave. “You’ll get it. Trust me—I know you will.”

Nodding, she repeated the mantra once again in her mind, over and over again as she walked back to her apartment: _the greatest goddamn medical ninja._

(Whatever Lies Hidden)

After Kakashi, Tsunade, and Jiraiya left their house after the future retelling, Minato and Kushina did not move off the couch. Too horrified, they could not have moved even if they wanted to. Even repositioning themselves felt like a monumental task, as if they were moving through molasses. For the entire night, they just sat in their living room, completely silent, Kushina resting her head on her husband’s shoulder. Where normally his fingers would have played with her hair absentmindedly, they stayed limp on her arm.

Minato’s first day as Hokage went well, he told her. But, she had a feeling that his second day would run less smoothly, due to the stress and the sleep deprivation. Unsure of what else to do after he left for work, Kushina numbly cleaned the house for hours. Though she was traditionally less clean than Minato, the house, due to her complete auto-pilot, was beyond spotless by the time she was done.

As she was in her first trimester of pregnancy, Kushina was already tired most of the time. With the added exhaustion of a sleepless night and a morning spent extensively cleaning, she finally pushed through the horror to find the will to take a quick nap around one.

Minato woke her sometime later, when he sat on their bed and gently placed a hand on her arm. “Hey, I’m home.”

“What time is it?” she mumbled, stretching awake with her eyes still shut.

“Eight. I’ve put on dinner, if you’re hungry. Should be ready in about half an hour.”

“Oh,” said Kushina, finally opening her eyes. _So much for a quick nap._ Stretching once more, she sat up and rested her upper-body weight on her hand. “Thank you. How was work?”

“It was—” He didn’t bother finishing, only vaguely shrugging, but she understood. What was there even to say? “How are you?”

She was tempted to respond in a similar manner, but she knew they had to talk eventually. Life, very suddenly, felt infinitely more pressing than it did before. “I’m horrified,” she said honestly. “Just—just horrified.”

Nodding, he placed his hand over hers, gently tracing patterns onto her fingers. “Do you believe them?”

“I thought about it a lot, this morning. And, I’m still in shock. It’s just—” Biting her lip, she met his eyes and took a deep breath. “But, for now, yes. I think we have to believe them. It comes down to this—either they’re telling the truth, or the Third, Orochimaru, and Danzō are telling the truth. I know which group I trust more. If it were anyone else in the world, I would think different, but it’s Jiraiya and Tsunade. We _know_ them. They wouldn’t lie to us about this. If we can’t trust them, we can’t trust anyone.”

Motionless, he did nothing but contemplate her words for a long moment, so she continued, “I didn’t tell you about this, because Tsunade told me not to tell anyone at the time. But, the day the war ended, it was my job to find Kakashi to see if he wanted to go to dinner with us. I found him in one of the training fields, and I heard him yelling before I saw him. So, I admittedly decided to be nosy, hid, and spied on his emotions. Minato, the grief he felt was…horrible. Like someone who’d lost a child.

“So, once he stopped yelling at nothing, I went to him and found him sitting in the field alone, except for three, white flowers in front of him, grave-sized widths apart. Of course, it didn’t make any sense at the time. But, now I know the three people those flowers were for. You can’t fake that kind of grief, Minato. Not to me.”

He nodded, neither in agreement nor disagreement, like he was just passively absorbing her words. “And, are you okay with that? Believing them?”

“I don’t know,” she said, and she had to pull her hand away from Minato’s to wipe tears from her eyes. “It’s so horrifying, and there’s so much of it that I feel like my head is going to explode. All the stuff with the village and the end of the world and _Obito_. How do you move on from that, knowing all those things?” Her voice broke then, and the tears fell harder. But, the faintest of smiles appeared on her face. “But, we’re having a son, you know? And he’s going to be a good man. Just the strongest, greatest, kindest son you could ever hope for, you know?”

Nodding in the same way as before, Minato took her into his arms. All the bottled emotion finally breaking through, she cried openly onto his shoulder, the sobs spasming her lungs. She did not know what else to do but cry, and he did not know what else to do but rub her back soothingly.

“It’ll be alright,” he said. “I swear, whatever it takes, I’m going to keep you and our child safe.”

“I know.” She wiped her face with his shirt sleeve like it was a tissue. “You’re a good man, too, you know?” Placing her hand on the side of his face, she met his eyes once again. “What about you? What do you think?”

He hesitated, and though his answer was noncommittal, she knew it to be true. “I haven’t decided, yet.”

* * *

 

It was late when Minato knocked on Jiraiya’s door—only just before the time Jiraiya planned on getting his stuff together to meet Tsunade and Kakashi, forty-eight hours post reveal. However, Jiraiya put the hospital on the back burner; speaking to Minato was more important. Worse comes to worst, Kakashi could handle Tsunade alone.

“Hey,” said Minato, after Jiraiya let him in and shut the door behind him. He nodded towards the stacks of paper that littered across Jiraiya’s kitchen and living room. “Working on a new book?”

“Since we got back,” said Jiraiya. “It’s slowly growing out of control.”

Making no attempt to continue the conversation, Minato made it clear he was not in the mood for small talk. Jiraiya knew him well enough, knew the look on his face well enough, to know what was coming. He had always encouraged Minato’s inquisitiveness and knew when he was about to be faced with a barrage of questions.

“Are you _absolutely_ sure about Kakashi?” asked Minato. “That he’s telling the truth?”

“I am,” said Jiraiya, after a moment of thought. “It’s a lot to process. I had my doubts, even after I agreed to help him. But, it’s just too much information. I don’t think Kakashi has it in him to make up that much stuff. And, his story didn’t change a bit when he told us versus when he told you.

“Plus, he knows too much to not have some kind of omniscience. He was right about things he had no way of even guessing, down to the Third retiring, when the war would end, and that you and Kushina were planning on having a child and when. The way he knows how to use a dōjutsu suggests that he once had one. The way he interacts with Tsunade suggests that they were friends. He knows a helluva lot about me. And, don’t tell him I said this, but I think Kakashi’s a good man. It’s wild, but I trust him.”

Minato nodded without a reaction, just neutrally taking in his words, so Jiraiya felt the need to elaborate. “I know he seems detached from the things that happened. But, I think it’s just what he puts on. Two days ago, he told Tsunade and I about…one of his worst memories, in painstaking detail. Hearing it, I have no doubt that he was there.”

“Which memory?” asked Minato.

For a moment, Jiraiya considered brushing off the question, but he knew it would not help his case. “Killing Rin.” Even then, Minato did not react. “When you talk to him, ask him about the tattoo he got. It’ll help you understand.”

“He got a tattoo?” Jiraiya nodded. “About Rin?”

“No, nothing to do with Rin. Just ask about it.”

“And your trust in him,” said Minato. “How much does that have to do with Sakumo?”

Jiraiya paused before answering. “Some, at first,” he admitted. “I projected a little. Well, a lot. But, now, almost nothing.” _Probably_. “He’s a very different person than his father. A few similarities, but—no, now, almost nothing.”

“If I should believe you, what were you planning as your next move?”

“We realized we had three options for the first thing we did,” said Jiraiya. “One freebie before things got more complicated. We could either kill Danzō, take down Orochimaru, or keep the Third’s trust and maybe convince him to do something. Kakashi thinks, without hesitation, that killing Danzō is the most important.”

After that, Jiraiya told him about their trip to the Rain and their setup to blame Hanzō. As he went on, Minato continued to nod, as if he did not care one way or the other. Minato’s surface-level apathy did not bother Jiraiya, however. Like Kakashi appeared aloof about his past, Minato, slow to anger and quick to be objective, appeared aloof whenever he got in an interrogating mood.

“And Kushina and the Nine-Tails,” said Minato. “What’s your plan on that?”

“It’s still a work in progress. So far, our best case scenario is that it never happens, and in our worst case, if the Nine-Tails does escape, our plan is to put it in Tsunade until…further arrangements need to be made. Tsunade thinks Kushina can survive the extraction, as long as she is there to help her.”

“Does it ever seem normal? The time traveling?”

“Kind of,” said Jiraiya. “I’m only three months in, but I’m at least used to Kakashi now. That he’s an adult who’s my age. That he’s a friend. Mostly, it’s still philosophically throwing me off. It’s making me question everything I thought about the world. I don’t know what reality is anymore. Is it everything that the earth experiences? Is it everything that’s ever happened? Is the future that Kakashi experienced just as real as everything else, even though it only exists in his mind? Are we only ever people’s memories? Weird bullshit like that.”

For the first time, Minato looked like he was taken off guard, likely not having reached that stage of time travel acceptance, yet. Jiraiya expected that his old student would join him in his existential crises soon.

“How is Kakashi doing?” asked Minato.

“Better than he was. He looked rough for a while, but he’s been less defeated lately. Less dead inside. But, I don’t think he’s fully used to it yet, either. He’s lost a lot of things.”

“And you?”

“Other than the existential stuff,” said Jiraiya. “I think I’m fine with it. Much better than I thought I’d be. Certainly better than Kakashi and Tsunade. But, Tsunade’s _here_ , so she’s arguably better than she was before.”

Jiraiya did not want to push. Minato had been given only two days to process everything, on top of the chaos that came from learning how to be Hokage. All of them felt like assholes for dumping it on him and Kushina, and the more Jiraiya pushed, the less likely their plan was to work.

However, Jiraiya was worried about him, because he cared about him a good deal, so he could not resist asking, “How are you doing?”

Before answering, Minato stared at him for a long moment, thinking on it. “I haven’t decided, yet.” He looked to be on the verge of saying something else, but he thought better of it. Shaking his head, he continued: “Goodnight, Jiraiya.”

With that, he was out the door, leaving Jiraiya alone in the apartment once again.

* * *

 

Three days after telling the Namikazes about the future, Minato showed up at Kakashi’s apartment just as Kakashi and the boys finished cleaning up from dinner. Jiraiya told Kakashi about Minato’s visit to his own apartment, so his appearance was not a surprise. Still, Kakashi let him in with an expression that suggested he was unprepared, not wanting to seem too assuming.

“Do you have time to talk?” asked Minato.

“Of course,” said Kakashi, before turning to the kitchen table. Tenzō was reading one of his library books—he was so close to catching up to his year—and Kabuto was doing homework, a furrowed expression on his face. “Boys, be polite and greet the Hokage.”

“Good evening, Mr. Hokage,” said Kabuto, and Tenzō followed.

Kakashi shook his head, but decided that the issue of their etiquette was not worth pressing at the current time.

“Do we need to leave?” asked Tenzō.

“Yup,” said Kakashi. “Why don’t you guys go play outside?”

Both boys got up quickly, ready to take a break from their reading. After throwing on their coats and scarves, they rushed out the door before Kakashi could even give them a curfew. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to see them for a while.

“Tea?” asked Kakashi to Minato.

“I’m fine, thank you,” said Minato. So they could sit, Kakashi cleared the homework off the kitchen table. “If it’s alright with you, I’d rather skip the small talk.”

“I’d rather the same.” Kakashi knew that everything would likely come down to this moment, and he had no interest in delaying it.

“I have several things I want to say,” said Minato. Face stoic, his tone of voice landed somewhere between authoritative and terse. “Starting with, I believe you about time traveling.”

Just as stoic, Kakashi nodded, but inwardly, he was so relieved that he could have laughed. “Thank you.”

“Second,” said Minato. “I’ll go along with Danzō, as long as you meet my list of conditions. First, Jiraiya told me about your other two options. Justify to me right now why we should go with killing Danzō over taking down Orochimaru or persuading the Third.”

“Make no mistake about Orochimaru,” said Kakashi. “Unlike Jiraiya and Tsunade, I hold no, nor have I ever held, any fondness for him. He’s hurt a lot of people I love, and if I could kill him right now, I would do it without hesitation. But, even still, Danzō’s more important. At some point, Danzō will try to assassinate you to take over the Hokage position, and he won’t care if he has to use your wife or your son or whoever to lure you into a position where he can. You’ll never get control of Konoha while he’s around, and you, your family, and everyone else here will always be in danger as long as he’s alive. No one is off limits to him.

“As far as the Third, I do like him a lot. I’ve become disillusioned with time, but I still owe him, because he did a lot for me after you were gone. However, as much as I care about him, he cannot be trusted to not be complacent. His weakness is the people he loves, and he loves a lot of the wrong people.”

Minato nodded. “My next condition is that I go along, and we get a detailed plan together ahead of time.”

“Of course.”

“Finally, once we’re there and we have Danzō trapped, I need you to get him to confess. At least to something, so I know without a doubt that you know what you’re doing and the things you say are true.”

“I will,” promised Kakashi.

Truthfully, he was not sure if he _could_ , because Danzō was not the sort to give over information, even when cornered. But, if it was what Minato needed to trust him, to forgive him, then he would go to the end of the earth to try. To win Minato’s approval, he was willing to do a lot worse.

“Third on the list of things I want to talk about,” said Minato, and his tone softened. “Thank you.”

Kakashi paused, baffled. “For _what_?”

“For everything you did for my son.” Minato looked at Kakashi as if this was obvious. “You helped shape him into the man he became, since I couldn’t. You protected him. You went to the end of earth with him, and that means more to me than you will ever know. And, now that you’re here, you’re doing everything you can to protect my family and my village.”

“I am so sorry,” said Kakashi. The thirteen-year-old Kakashi—who still viewed Minato as a parental figure rather than a substitute child that had been substituted in for another substitute child, who felt a desperate, gnawing need to apologize instead of protect—burst out before thirty-seven-year-old Kakashi could stop him. “For everything that happened last time. For killing you and Kushina and Obito and Rin—”

“I would never blame you,” said Minato. “Those things weren’t your fault. You were just a kid. A jōnin, but still a kid. And, I’m sorry, too.” Minato’s voice broke, and Kakashi had to turn away to keep his composure. “I was so careless about so many things. I was Hokage, and I knew better, but I was so, _so_ stupid. I could prevented a lot of those things. It left you and Naruto alone, and it killed my wife—”

“I would never blame you,” said Kakashi, returning to his adult self who felt the need to console Minato. “Not once. Neither did Naruto, and you know Kushina wouldn’t. How could you have known what was coming? The things that happened last time were beyond any of us, including those who were much older than you.”

“Thank you,” said Minato, and though he looked relieved, he did not look anymore certain.

“Last time was hell for everyone,” said Kakashi. “That’s why we have to fix it. This village and its people, including you, deserve a lot better than what they got.”

“But, you don’t think the war can be prevented.”

Closing his eyes, Kakashi wished he could come to a conclusion better than the one he did—that had been running through his mind since the day he came back. “No. I don’t want to believe that some things are just destined, but in my heart, I know the war is. No matter what we do, no matter what we change, she is going to be watching us from the shadows. The only way to really stop her is to wait until she comes out of hiding, and she won’t do that until she’s ready to wage a war. Our goal should be to reduce casualties.”

“I told Tsunade, the day I was made Hokage, that it felt like the entire world was watching,” said Minato. “I guess it was even truer than I realized. Everyone _is_ watching, and everything we do matters. You’re right. We have to do better, now that we know what’s coming. _I_ have to do better. The people in this village deserve a Hokage better than the one I was and the one the Third was afterward.”

“You’re not alone,” assured Kakashi. “Jiraiya, Tsunade, and I are willing to go to hell and back. I owe the village for my mistakes, too. We’ll fix it—together.”

“Together,” agreed Minato.

For the first time, both of them smiled, despite the subject matter. If nothing else, they did have _together_. That was not a bond that even hell could take from them, no matter how much dynamics had shifted over time.

“Jiraiya said I was supposed to ask you about a tattoo,” said Minato.

“That bastard,” muttered Kakashi. “Look, I had a…rough morning the day the war ended, that resulted in a lapse in judgment. The lapse in judgment, of course, being an unplanned tattoo.”

Raising his sleeve, Kakashi showed Minato his memorial tattoo. Despite all of their fears of infection, it healed nicely with no complications. The linework for the symbol for “seven” was still immaculate now that it had healed, and the top colors—red, orange, and pink—still blurred nicely into the blue. Skimbops Marquis was not a good man, instead a master of petty lawlessness, but he was a good artist, as long as he was mostly sober and remembered to clean his needles.

“I’m sorry I showed you,” said Kakashi, self-consciously adjusting his sleeve back down. “I’m sure seeing a memorial tattoo dedicated to your unborn son is a bit disturbing.”

“It’s okay,” said Minato. “You cared about them a lot, huh?”

Kakashi gave a closed mouth laugh. “Yeah. They were—” _Everything to me._ “—I mean, they weren’t the best students—no offense, of course—but they were the best damn ninja in Konoha, and they were mine.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he said softly. “How are you doing with…all of this?”

“I’m—” Minato shrugged, hesitated, then shook his head. “—I’m trying not to be angry.”

“At?”

“The village. I know it’s not helpful, that as Hokage I should be better than that, but I’m still angry. I’m angry at the Third Hokage, for allowing Danzō and Orochimaru to just do whatever treason they pleased and walk away. I’m _really_ angry at Danzō for everything he’s pulled. When I took the Hokage position, I had a lot more faith in what it meant. But now, whenever I look around at the government, it just feels like a ship sinking in poison.”

Kakashi nodded in understanding. “It’s like I said at the cliff top—this isn’t going to be easy. It’s going to be complicated and harder than anything you’ve ever done, but you’re doing it because you want your son to have the chance to grow up in a place better than he did. The reason you’re Hokage is so you can be different. Take it from someone who was, being Hokage still means something, even after the betrayal.”

“Does that ever get any better?” asked Minato. “Having one of your students betray you deeply enough to kill you?”

“Yes,” said Kakashi confidently. “Sometimes, people turn, and it hurts like a hell you wouldn’t believe. But, sometimes they turn back. The memories never go away, but that doesn’t mean you can’t heal from them. Sasuke’s a bastard, but I was supposed to be his father at his wedding, so we have—we had—all made our peace. Plus, with Obito, I basically locked him in the village, so it won’t happen again.”

“And we’re thinking Yoichiro is a strong candidate for the replacement?” Kakashi nodded. “What do you think Sasuke would have been like? If all of that hadn’t happened?”

“I like to think he might have been a bit like you. An arrogant, kind-of-an-asshole version of you.” There was the beginnings of a half smile on Minato’s face, but as he paused a moment to think, it faded. To try and ease the mood, Kakashi continued: “Though, if it makes you feel better about being angry, no matter how hard you try, you’ll never match Tsunade, and she was an excellent Hokage. You know, whenever I made a decision she didn’t like, she broke into my house and threw my furniture at my face unless I gave her alcohol.”

“That sounds like her,” said Minato, snorting. “But, on a similar note, for my last topic of conversation, I’m making you my unofficial adviser.”

“What?” asked Kakashi, after a beat, taken off guard once again.

“What you said on that cliff top—that I was made Hokage not because I knew how to do it but because I knew how to learn—you were right. Unfortunately, I’ve just learned that everyone who was supposed to be teaching me can’t be trusted. So, you’re now the next best thing. I can’t pay you, as this is all secret, but I’m not giving you a choice, either.”

Though he wanted to protest, hardly feeling qualified, Kakashi realized, to his horror, that he probably was the most qualified person for the job.

“But,” continued Minato. “I am requesting you don’t break into my house and destroy my furniture, for your own safety. Kushina is fond of it and can kick your ass.”

“I’m sure I can refrain.” Pausing, Kakashi gave him a hesitant look. “Regarding Danzō, I have a request for you.”

(Who, Pray Tell)

On Saturdays, Rin, Obito, and Shizune made it a habit to have ice cream together. It started on the former two’s quest to show Shizune everything worth seeing in Konoha, and despite the chilly temperatures outside, they found it an imperative to show her their favorite ice cream place. They wound up making it a weekly thing, finding something funny about eating ice cream in the frost.

“You know, it’ll be kind of sad,” said Rin to Shizune. “When you take the chūnin exam, we won’t be able to do this every Saturday anymore.”

“I mean this nicely,” said Shizune. “But, I’ll give up ice cream to be a chūnin.

Rin giggled. “Still hating being a genin?”

“Don’t even get me started,” said Shizune, scowling. “If I have to babysit another kid, I’m going to lose it.”

“Kids aren’t _that_ bad,” said Obito.

“You’re only saying that because you have the good ones. Yours can do ninja stuff, but all mine can do is puke on you.”

“Remember that time we babysat that Inuzuka baby?” asked Rin to Obito, giggling again. “And, she threw up all over Kakashi?”

“He was so mad,” said Obito to Shizune. “It was the first time I’d ever heard Kakashi swear, and Minato was so furious about him swearing in front of a kid that he made him do workout drills until two in the morning.”

“I guess Kakashi cares a lot less now,” said Shizune, with a laugh. “He, Jiraiya, and Tsunade had to have a talk with Tenzō and Kabuto about how there are some words you’re not allowed to say until you’re old enough. The boys took it so seriously.”

“Does Kakashi swear a lot?” asked Rin.

“Some. But, nothing even close to Tsunade.” Shizune leaned back into her chair, before lowering her voice. “She uses ‘fuck’ like a comma.”

Obito laughed, but Rin turned towards him, her brow furrowed in concern. “Doesn’t it bother you?” she asked. “How much different Kakashi is?”

“No.” Obito took a bite of his strawberry ice cream. “New Kakashi’s great, and swearing isn't _that_ weird. He taught me how to fix a sink, and he took me, Tenzō, and Kabuto to this volunteer thing that I wanted to go to—”

“Yes, I mean, he seems great,” said Rin, her tone short. “I know you like him a lot. But, he’s _wrong_ , you know? Does it not bother you, even a little?”

“You know, Rin,” said Shizune bluntly, licking some of the melted chocolate off her hand. “You talk about Kakashi a lot.”

Flushing scarlet, Rin’s eyes darted towards the floor. On the other hand, Obito’s expression soured, and he turned away. Shizune cringed, realizing, in her awkwardness, that she hit a sore spot.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Rin,” she said quickly, trying to salvage the moment. “I mean, he seems okay, doesn’t he?”

“Maybe.” Rin’s eyes were still glued to the floor. “I don’t really know how to tell.”

Before Shizune could stick her foot in her mouth further, three boys she did not recognize joined their table. The one leading the charge had the bushiest eyebrows that she had ever seen, a black bowl-cut, and a skintight, green jumpsuit. One of his two companions had round, black glasses and suspenders. The other was a more normal-looking, brunette, older boy.

“Yo, guys,” said the eyebrows boy, waving as they walked over. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Hey, Guy,” said Rin, smiling as if the previous thirty seconds had not happened. She turned towards Shizune. “These are our friends, Guy, Ebisu, and Genma. They’re on a team together. Guys, this is Shizune.”

“Oh, you’re the little genin girl,” said Genma, grinning as he leaned against the side of Obito’s chair. “How’s painting fences?”

“Just fine, thank you,” said Shizune coldly, not appreciating the nickname.

“Genma, don’t tease her,” said Rin. “Shizune, don’t take it personally. He’s just…like this. You guys want to join?”

As the newcomers sat down, Genma laughed, not bothered by Rin’s words.

“Are you attempting the spring chūnin exams?” asked Ebisu.

Shizune nodded. “I’m _passing_ the spring chūnin exams.”

“Don’t worry if you don’t, though,” said Obito. “Rin and I failed the first time but passed the second.”

“Tsunade says I’m too old to be a genin. That, and, I’m tired of doing chores with nine-year-olds.”

“Tsunade trained you, right?” asked Genma. Shizune nodded. “Yeah, little genin girl, you’ll be fine.”

“ _You_ won’t be fine if you keep calling me that.”

Despite her threat, Genma’s grin did not falter. Crossing her arms, Shizune was quite certain that she did not like this boy in the slightest.

“Oh, speaking of promotions,” said Guy. “Genma’s being promoted to tokubetsu jōnin.”

“Whoa, no way,” said Obito, his eyes lighting up.

“Congratulations!” said Rin, which Shizune echoed half-heartedly.

“We’re going camping to celebrate, when we’ve all got a weekend off,” said Genma. “You guys want to come?”

Obito and Rin agreed excitedly. After Rin elbowed Shizune, communicating a familiar sentiment of “Shizune, agree to this social interaction because it will be good for you,” she conceded as well.

“Do you think Kakashi will come?” asked Guy.

The ice cream trio all hesitated, exchanging awkward glances. “I don’t know,” said Rin. “He’s been busy doing…whatever he’s been doing.”

“He doesn’t like leaving the kids alone,” said Shizune. “Not yet, at least.”

“You know, out of all of us,” said Genma. “Kakashi would have been second to last on my list of people who would become a teen father.”

“Who is the last?” asked Ebisu.

“You. I’m not sure we could find a woman willing.”

As Ebisu shot him a dirty look, Obito and Guy laughed. Even Shizune, though she blushed and put her head in her hands to hide it, cracked a grin. Rin, however, looked back at the floor, quite sure she was the only one truly unnerved by Kakashi’s transformation. Perhaps she was being over-dramatic, or perhaps she was mistaken, but it bothered her for reasons she did not know how to put into words.

(The Debts We Owe)

For a group of people who were so close in both proximity and friendship, Tsunade’s, Jiraiya’s, Kakashi’s, and Minato’s ability to communicate with one another became unreasonably difficult. As the days until their plan’s execution grew fewer, their paranoia only increased. Particularly with Danzō’s recent interest in Tsunade’s motives, they knew that there was no such thing as too cautious and agreed to correspond through convoluted means only.

Kakashi and Minato needed to talk the most often, as Kakashi was calling most of the shots and Minato needed the most instruction, which was unfortunate. They were the only two people in their plan who could not, under nearly any circumstance, speak face-to-face. Should anyone catch on to any possibility of scheming, their natural inclination would be to suspect Jiraiya as the mastermind. Removed from the situation, Kakashi was completely inconspicuous. However, if Kakashi visited Minato too often, a clever person might suspect that they were using Kakashi’s innocence as a cover for passing messages between Minato and Jiraiya. Wrong as the assumption would be, it would still bring attention to Kakashi that could foil their entire plan.

Instead, they worked the reversed expectation of their reality to their advantage. For the most part, Jiraiya removed himself from interactions with everyone, publicly blaming his recent stride on novel writing. All of them stopped the night gatherings at the hospital, they knocked down the frequency of Jiraiya’s lessons with Kakashi, and Jiraiya hardly left his apartment unless food or alcohol was involved. With an excuse to talk to Minato regularly, Tsunade played the role of messenger, shuffling letters back and forth between Minato, Kakashi, and Jiraiya.

It was harder for her to find a reason to visit Kakashi, so they had to craft a scenario where Kakashi and Shizune appeared, to an outsider, like they might perhaps be dating. Tsunade knew it made Kakashi feel uncomfortable, due to the fact that she was fourteen and he was old enough to easily be her father, even though all he was doing was visiting with her in the evenings and occasionally taking her to breakfast or lunch. Though Shizune did not know Kakashi was drastically older than her, she was not happy about their arrangement, either. However, it was the only way any of them could think of how to get messages from Tsunade to Kakashi, so Kakashi sucked it up and did his best to ignore how creepy he felt. Tsunade had taught Shizune well, and no matter how little explanation Tsunade gave her, she would not protest or tell a soul.

Tsunade appreciated that she put Shizune through a lot. Making her spend many of her evenings at Kakashi’s apartment instead of hanging out with friends, sitting in silence for hours as he hastily wrote back all of Tsunade’s, Minato’s, and Jiraiya’s queries, was just the latest offense. Thinking back on Kakashi talking about the importance of integrating the kids into Konoha and furthering their emotional development, Tsunade was still racking her brain on how to make up for a decade’s worth of weird decisions during Shizune’s core developmental years.

However, Shizune was not the only family member that Tsunade was worried about disappointing. Though she had seen and spoken to Minato a good deal, all of their real communications had to be in letters that contained essential information only. As much as she wanted to know, Tsunade could not justify, for the greater good, wasting paper space for “by the way, how is your wife taking this, and does she hate us?”

When Tsunade had to return to the Namikazes’ a few days after the future reveal to take a few more vials of blood from her, just to run more tests to buy time, she had no idea what Kushina’s response to her would be. After the news they gave her, the sky was the limit in terms of potential reactions.

On the way over, Tsunade desperately tried to think about what she could say to Kushina that might make everything seem okay. But, when Kushina let her inside and they sat down on her couch, all that tumbled out of Tsunade’s mouth was “I am so, so goddamn sorry.”

Though it took her a second, Kushina eventually flashed a sad smile. “I know. But, it’s okay. I mean, it’s not, but I don’t blame _you_. Or Jiraiya and Kakashi, for that matter. It’s not like you asked for it, either.”

“How are you?” asked Tsunade. “Really?”

Kushina bit her lip, taking a moment to think on her answer. “Honestly? I guess it’s predictable coming from me, but more than anything right now, I’m just _angry_. I’m angry at how corrupt this village is. I’m angry at the truly impressive number of people who’ve managed or will manage to betray me or my family, some of whom I really, really wanted to trust. I’m angry that my son suffered for so long. I’m angry that after everything I thought about fate, how much I romanticized it, it turns out the only fate we get is being pawns in some mad god’s plan and then getting tossed away like none of it ever mattered.

“It just makes me feel _small_ , you know?” asked Kushina, irritatedly blinking back tears. “The one time it really matters, the one time it’s most important to do something, the Nine-Tails, which is what even makes me useful to begin with, is keeping me trapped inside my own house. The one time I can’t afford to be, I’m completely useless.”

“I understand,” said Tsunade. Though there was little to feel relieved about nowadays, she still felt so relieved that Kushina’s anger wasn’t directed at her that it was like a thousand-pound weight lifted off her chest. “About all of it.”

“Minato told me about the Nine-Tails, you know. That if everything goes south in October, our best chance is for you to become the next jinchūriki.”

“Only if it comes to it. Trust me, we’ll do everything we can to make sure it doesn’t come that.”

“I think it’s brave of you. The Nine-Tails is a lot to bear.” Wiping the last of her tears away, Kushina gave a bitter laugh. “I tried talking to him—the Nine Tails—after last week. I figured, if Naruto could get through to him, maybe I could too. Just asked him about his past, you know? Anyway, he brushed me off and told me that, even if no one else dies in October, he hopes I die a slow, miserable death at his hands. Obviously, I got mad and then told him that I’ll make sure he goes down with me this time, so if I had to guess, he and I aren’t going to improve upon our relationship for a while.”

Tsunade grimaced. “I’m…sorry?” she said, unsure of what condolence was even appropriate for such a confession.

Nodding absentmindedly, Kushina shrugged. “Minato’s angry, too, you know,” she said, as if the previous monologue never happened. “Not at the Nine-Tails. In general. He won’t talk to me about it, because I think he’s trying to pretend like if he fakes having everything together, it’ll make it so. But, I know better. The obvious stuff is, of course, getting to him, but the Third not being the man he thought he was is hitting him hard, too.” Tsunade swore that she didn’t react, but when Kushina caught her gaze, her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—of course, it has to be way worse for you than it is for him—”

“It’s okay,” said Tsunade, meaning it. “I mean, it’s not, but it’s not on you or Minato. You both have a right to be upset, too. It’s all complicated.”

“How are you doing? And, don’t lie; I’ll know.”

“I’m angry, too,” she confessed. “And stunned, still, even after three months. As much as I want to pretend I haven’t, I’ve put a lot on the back burner, because it’s too much to deal with everything right now. I’ll have to do it eventually, but for now, I’m focusing on being angry. It’s the easiest thing to be.”

“You know what’s stupid?” Kushina gave another short, horrible burst of laughter. “I’ve been a ninja since I could walk. I thought I was okay with everything, afraid of nothing. But, I’m not. I’m not ready to die—at least, not like that. If I’m going to die, I want to die fighting, not…like that, you know? And, I _really_ don’t want to know the day well in advance.”

“They won’t get you,” said Tsunade sharply, grabbing her hand. “Not on that day, not like that. I swear, we won’t let them.”

Kushina nodded, though she did not look like she believed her. “It just makes you think about things, you know? The stuff that dies with you. The stuff that you leave behind. What all of it means.” Taking a deep breath, she brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Do you think we’ll always be angry?”

“Maybe. But, we’ll get through it,” assured Tsunade. “Together.”

“Together,” agreed Kushina. Some of the sadness left her smile, and she leapt off the couch. “Oh, before I forget—” She wandered into the kitchen and came back with an envelope, which she handed to Tsunade. “Whenever you have a moment, will you deliver this to Kakashi for me?”

Pocketing it, Tsunade agreed. She decided that they’d put off lab work long enough, and she unpacked her medical supplies onto the coffee table. Before she could do anything, however, Kushina interrupted her.

“Tsunade,” said Kushina. “I need you to do me a favor, okay?”

“What is it?”

“You’re all I have left, you know,” said Kushina. “You, Minato, Jiraiya, and Kakashi. I can’t trust anyone or anything else. Without you, I’m alone.” Kushina took her hand once more. “So, I need you to work through your fear of blood, so when the time comes, you can be there with me, okay?”

“I swear,” said Tsunade, resisting the urge to hesitate. Kushina deserved better than hesitation. “I swear.”

* * *

 

At six p.m. on the dot, Shizune arrived at Kakashi’s apartment. “The usual,” she said, once the door was shut, taking an armful of paperwork, letters, and one package out of her bag and setting them on the kitchen table. “Tsunade said to tell you that the top letter’s from Kushina.”

“Thank you,” he said.

As he sorted the mail, figuring out what all he had in front of him, Shizune wandered into the kitchen. She had grown almost as comfortable as Tenzō and Kabuto in his apartment, looking through his cabinets for something to eat without making any pretense of manners. Settling on a packaged sweet roll, she pulled one of his chairs up to his counter (she could not sit at the table, as the letters were beyond classified) and opened it.

“I think I’ve met all your friends by now,” said Shizune. During these nighttime visits, she often talked at him, to give herself something to do. He did not mind it much, and she never took offense if he replied with nothing, instead just continuing on like she was talking to herself. “I met Kurenai today, finally.”

“Did you?” he asked absentmindedly, organizing his letters into piles depending on who they were from.

“Okay, I have a question, though. Is Genma always the worst?”

The question took him so off guard that he laughed before he could stop it. “What?”

“He keeps calling me ‘little genin girl.’” She took a violent bite of her roll and scowled at him. “Even after I threatened to poison him.”

“He’s doing it to get a reaction out of you,” he said. “And it’s working.”

“He’s just so irritating. And, nothing ever gets to him. He’s impossible to tease back.”

“Tsunade raised you. Surely you can get creative.”

“If I called him anything that Tsunade has ever called someone,” she said. “Rin would have a heart attack.”

Kakashi smiled. “He’s a good person, once you get to know him. He likes to make fun of everyone and everything, but he’s a good person.”

“He’d be a better person if he stopped calling me ‘little genin girl,’” grumbled Shizune, as she took another bite.

Though he had several letters from Minato that were likely more pressing, he decided to start with the one from Kushina. Taking the letter out of the envelope and unfolding it, Kakashi began to read:

 

_Dear Kakashi,_

_Since I can’t see you in person right now, I’m going to try to get some of my thoughts out in letter form. Sorry if I ramble._

_I know you apologized to Minato, and he forgave you. I just wanted to let you know that I forgive you, too. I trust you. All of it is hard to believe—so hard—but I trust you._

_I don’t know how I’m feeling about all that, at the moment. I’m hoping I will soon._

_Thank you for looking after my son, for all those years. I’m so, so sorry for your loss. For your three flowers in an empty field. Have you talked to them since that day? If not, I think you should. They live on in you, you know? They wouldn’t want you to suffer alone. None of us do, either._

_Minato told me about the tattoo, as well. I think it’s sweet._

_When this is all over, I’d like for you to visit and tell me about my son. What he’s like and what he likes. The little stories that didn’t make it in. About his wedding and his wife. All the things I missed last time. I feel like, somehow, I owe it to his memory to hear them, you know?_

_Until then, I need you to do me a favor. I love my family more than anything, you know? But, before I loved them, I had a different set of family that I loved and a village that I loved. I had shared memories that I loved. There were once people and places who lived and were mine, but now they’re gone, and I’m the only one who still remembers._

_I don’t want to seem ungrateful to my life now, because I’m more thankful than I can put into words. Minato has always been uniquely mine, and I wouldn’t trade him for anything. Though my feelings towards Konoha are complicated at the moment, this village took me in when I had nowhere else to go. And, a lot of it runs together at this point. Life here has been kind enough to me that I can’t decide which village, Uzushiogakure or Konoha, is my real home. My family then and what family I have left now blends together in my mind. My friends then and now run together._

_Usually, it is a good thing. No matter what I do, I cannot bring back Uzushiogakure. My heart being here is just a part of accepting that my heart there is gone. But, sometimes, it makes me suddenly very aware that there are people and things that should not be forgotten whose memory will die with me all the same._

_I don’t know if any of this makes sense to you or if you are just reading this and thinking about how crazy I am._

_Also, I don’t want to make it seem like Minato, Jiraiya, and Tsunade don’t fear the village being destroyed. I’m good at reading people, you know, and they’re all so afraid at the moment they hardly know what to do with it (don’t tell them I’ve told you, though. They all like to pretend they’re much less affected by things than they actually are). However, there is a difference between the way one fears a theoretical and the way one fears a memory. They don’t know what it’s like to be the last of something._

_Not like me. Not like you._

_I don’t know if I can do it again._

_If Kaguya really_ _perhaps come back with you, then she won’t make the same mistakes again. We can’t either, for Konoha’s sake. For my son’s sake. For Minato’s, Jiraiya’s, and Tsunade’s sakes. Worried as they are, they do not fear enough, not in the same, desperate way as those who remember. I know you will anyway, but also do it as a favor to me, because I can’t go along:_

_Make sure Danzō dies._

_Until then,_

_Kushina_

“Kakashi?” asked Shizune. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, but his voice was breathless and his throat felt tight. It was far more emotion than he was comfortable showing around Shizune, and he tried to cough away the constriction in his chest. “I’m fine.”

Not looking at her, Kakashi went into the kitchen, the letter clutched tightly in his hands. He turned on the stove and almost turned it to ash—he had to burn all of his letters after reading them, so no one would ever find them—but after a moment of hesitation, he set it inside one of the drawers. Instead, he moved his tea kettle onto the flames.

He _would_ burn it later tonight, but he wanted to read it a few more times, if only to think of how to respond. It was a whirlwind of a letter, both relieving and heart-breaking, healing and horrible, like he’d been punched in the stomach and hugged, all at the same time. He should have known that, of everyone’s reactions to the future, Kushina’s would break him the most, but it still took him aback. However, it was not fair to make Shizune wait around while he pondered a personal matter.

Closing his eyes, he pushed the letter from his mind as the water began to boil. For now, he had to be the Sixth Hokage, not a person who remembered.

* * *

 

Once Shizune was gone and the boys were put to bed, Kakashi was left with only the letter for company. Resting against his kitchen counter, he read through it several more times, trying to think of what to say back. At some point, however, he realized he was just reading it to delay its destruction. With a sigh, he turned on his stove once more and finally put the letter to rest.

He stood over the flames long after the paper disintegrated, still dwelling on her words and the people who would die with him.

Lighting a candle and taking out a stick of black chalk, he sat down on the floor of his kitchen. Gently, he sketched out the symbol for the number seven onto one of his cabinets. Then, with feather-light touches, he traced the outline with his finger tips, imprinting the design onto the white paint, not ready to move on to the inevitable.

The Sixth Hokage had left with Shizune’s letters, it seemed, leaving only a man who was _the last_.

Kushina, he realized then, did not have graves, either. He wondered, on nights like these, what she prayed to.

“Hey, guys,” whispered Kakashi, feeling awkward. He was no stranger to talking to the dead, but usually the dead weren’t his kitchen cabinet. “It’s been a while.”

Already, his voice was shaking. There was a reason he had not spoken to them in a month—the wound was still gaping open and raw.

“The oddest things have happened here,” he continued, trying to push through. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I think I’m turning into you, Naruto, because not knowing what else to do with him, I adopted Kabuto. And now, he, Tenzō—Yamato—and I are living in my apartment together like it’s a completely normal thing. Yes, Sakura, I know you would make fun of my and my current domesticity if you were here. Tsunade certainly has in your absence. Sasuke, I know you would be questioning my sanity If you were here, and I assure you, many people have in your absence.

“Naruto, your mother wrote me a letter, which is why I’m here. I told her and your dad about you—” The familiar tightness was returning to his throat, and he did his best to cough it away. “—about everything. All things considered, I think they took it well. I tried to keep out most of the embarrassing stories, but Kushina wants to know more about you, so no promises. Your parents and Jiraiya look good. They’re very proud of you.”

Kakashi allowed himself a few deep breaths before he moved on. “Sasuke, I’ve seen your parents several times. It would give you a stroke, but Itachi and Kabuto have become friends. It’s a flashback to worse days in an innocent, little package. That, and I spent nearly two months with the Akatsuki, which was—” Not finding the words to describe the situation, Kakashi just shook his head.

“You would almost certainly be questioning my sanity if you were here, but somehow, I think you would understand. That’s part of atonement, isn’t it? We do what we have to, no matter the personal cost.” Kakashi almost smiled. “But, I am about to kill someone who you would be very glad to see dead, if that’s any consolation. Wish me luck.

“Sakura—” It was always Sakura that got to him. Kakashi paused for a long moment, composing himself so he could continue. “—Tsunade’s doing really well. So is Shizune, even though Genma apparently keeps teasing her. But, Tsunade’s back in the village and trying to practice medicine. She’s so close, too. Just a little longer, I think.

“I wish you were here. You’d know what to say to her. You’d know what she needed to do. Instead, we’re all bumbling in the dark trying to reinvent your wheel. I took you for granted and didn’t pay enough attention, stupidly thinking that I wouldn’t outlive you. That I wouldn’t outlive any of you.

“I _did_ tell Tsunade about you,” he said. “She’ll never tell you this to your face, but she’s looking forward to teaching you. Naruto, Jiraiya’s looking forward to teaching you, too. Sasuke, you’ll have to settle for just me, because I won’t let Orochimaru get to you this time. I promise.” In his previous lifetime, Kakashi was never a crier, but here he was, tears brimming in his eyes for the second time in the span of a month. He quickly wiped them away, so he could almost pretend he wasn’t. “It feels selfish to be upset, because the three of you will technically be alive again. But, it won’t really be you, will it? It’s selfish of me, but _god_ , I wish you three were here right now—”

As much as he felt it was selfish to not keep going, that was it for him. With a quick, whispered “fuck,” he leaned his forehead against the cabinet. Ash-colored chalk smeared across his forehead and up into his hair, and tears fell onto his kitchen floor. It was embarrassing—this never used to happen to him. But, he knew the only people who could see him was _them_ , and he knew they would not judge him.

(Quiet, Quiet)

The morning after, as Kakashi was feeding the kids breakfast, he took out a small package from his cupboard and unboxed the pill bottle inside. Taking out two pills, he set one by each of the boys’ plates. If they noticed that the cupboard was vaguely tinted black, they did not comment on it.

If they noticed Kakashi’s hesitation as he divvied out the pills, they did not comment on that, either.

“What’s that?” asked Tenzō.

“Vitamins,” said Kakashi. “Everyone’s getting sick at the academy. Don’t want us to catch it, too.”

“Do we have to?” asked Kabuto, wrinkling his nose.

Kakashi did not bother to respond, instead just giving him a stern look. If nothing else, Team Seven had taught him how to give an effective one. At that, Tenzō and Kabuto took their pills immediately, swallowing them down with their tea.

If either of the boys noticed Kakashi’s hesitation as he took his own pill, they did not comment on it.

* * *

 

As luck tended to go, the very next day, Kakashi, Tenzō, and Kabuto all woke up with fevers and pounding headaches. Though the boys fought to stay in bed, cranky from being ill, Kakashi made them get dressed so they could get checked out at the hospital.

“Well, it’s not the flu,” said the medical-nin who examined the three of them, bringing back their results. “Probably just a random virus. It’s been going around lately. Get some rest and drink plenty of fluids. You should feel better in a few days. Come back if anything changes.

Once they arrived back home, Tenzō and Kabuto passed out in their beds, expressing no interest in either breakfast or lunch. Though he had housework to do and things to plan, Kakashi, too, had trouble staying awake. Around noon, he gave up his fight and laid down to take a nap, but not before giving him and the kids their second dosing of pills.

* * *

 

Monday morning, shortly after Kakashi _should_ have dropped Kabuto off at the academy, Jiraiya swung by his apartment.

“I was going to berate you for missing our training this morning,” said Jiraiya, crossing his arms when Kakashi opened the door. Kakashi’s face was pale, save for a violent blush on his cheeks, and he was covered in a feverish sheen. “But, you look rough.”

“Don’t come any closer,” said Kakashi, leaning sleepily against the door frame. “Me and the kids caught whatever academy bug is going around.”

“Gross,” said Jiraiya. “Well, don’t bother coming to training until you’re better, because if you give it me, I _will_ kill you.”

“Noted. If both of you have a moment, would you ask Tsunade to bring by some more medicine? We’re running low, and Kabuto keeps complaining.”

“Am not!” yelled Kabuto’s voice from inside the apartment.

“Stop screaming!” said Tenzō’s voice, just as loud.

“If both of you don’t stop,” said Kakashi, peeking his head back in. “I’ll tell Tsunade to bring you nothing and you’ll like it.” The boys’ voices instantly quieted. With a cough that sounded like it was ripping the insides of his lungs, Kakashi turned back towards Jiraiya. “Sorry.”

“Sure,” said Jiraiya, looking amused. “Just one question, though, for my own curiosity. When you blow your nose, do you still keep the mask on? Because if so, that’s kind of disgust—”

Before he could finish, Kakashi shut the door in his face, not in the mood.

* * *

 

By the time Tsunade came by Kakashi’s apartment later that evening, the boys were already asleep again.

“Your requested drugs,” she said, holding out a pill bottle to him.

“Thank you,” said Kakashi, reaching out to take them.

If anyone had been standing in the hallway with them or had been looking upon the building with a dōjutsu, they might have seen his hand grab her wrist instead of the pill bottle. They might have seen that, for a brief moment, there were four people in the doorway instead of two. They might have seen her hand off the pill bottle to one of the fresh clones, who quickly shifted their shape.

But, after a second, there were only two people in Kakashi’s hallway. With a brief goodbye, Kakashi shut the door behind him and collapsed back on the couch to sleep, and Tsunade made her way back to her own apartment.

* * *

 

Near the Fire country’s border, approximately halfway between Konoha and the Akatsuki’s current hideout, Kakashi and Tsunade landed on an envelope in an empty, one-room house. The sudden drop in chakra elicited a sharp intake of breath from Kakashi and brought him to his knees.

“You alright?” she asked, helping him up.

“We need to keep moving,” he said, slurring his words and attempting to stand on his own.

“You look like death. We need to rest a couple hours.”

“Tsunade—”

“Don’t _Tsunade_ me. You’re supposed to be running stealth.” Both of them realizing that he could not, in fact, stand on his own, she brought him over to a chair in the corner of the room “We can not risk your chakra-exhausted, poisoned ass getting us caught.” Reaching into her pack, she pulled out a pill and handed it to him. “Here’s the antidote. It’ll take a couple hours to work, but once it does, you’ll feel a lot better.”

“I still hate that we had to poison the kids,” said Kakashi, gratefully taking it as a cough wracked his lungs.

“If you could hold a multi-day shadow clone instead of making me do both of ours,” said Tsunade, sitting down in the chair next to him. “And weren’t also the one most concerned about someone noticing that you had my chakra signature if you went out in public, we wouldn’t have that problem.”

“I said I hated it, not that it wasn’t necessary.” As he stretched out his back, he gave her a side eye. “And, I wouldn’t get so cocky about ‘making’ you do anything. Only one of us had the capability of getting us out of the village without anyone noticing, via teleporting to Jiraiya’s safe house, didn’t we?”

“I’d have figured it out,” she said, shrugging and giving him a narrow-eyed look back. But, after a few moments, her expression softened. “The kids will be fine. It’ll leave their systems as soon as we stop dosing them and they’ll never know they didn’t have the academy bug.”

“You have Minato’s seal on you?”

Tsunade nodded. “Speaking of—” Taking out a small piece of wood, she placed it on the floor near the entrance. “His chakra levels are better than yours, so he’ll be able to get all the way to the Akatsuki hideout.”

“You did _poison_ me.”

“Excuses, excuses,” she said, grinning. “How are you feeling?”

“Still poisoned, in case you didn’t notice.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

His thoughts were still jumbled from fever, and it took him a few moments to think of an answer. “You know, if you would have asked me six months ago—or twenty-four years from now, in a way—whether or not I could take him down, I would have said no.” Kakashi almost smiled. “Even as good of a ninja as I became, there were always a few people who terrified me, and he was one of them. But, I don’t fear the same things anymore.”

The ensuing silence was uncomfortable but not awkward, each in their own heads about what was to come. Four months was not such a long time to plan something, and killing one person, even if he happened to be a political figure, was still less grand than a lot of things they had individually done. Both of them had waged wars and fought the unfightable—were once regarded as legendary, no matter how much they had fallen.

However, the idea of it being their first _thing_ gave it a certain gravitas.

“I really am good to move on,” he said eventually, though his words slurred.

“Yes, you seem _completely_ fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You should get some sleep. You’ll recover faster that way.”

He wanted to protest, knowing he would feel a lot better once they reached the Akatsuki hideout successfully. Though, despite the fact that the chair was uncomfortable, the poison was giving him metaphorical beer-goggles, turning it into something deliciously appealing. Curling up as best he could, Kakashi’s consciousness began to fade.

“The world is watching,” he muttered, just before he was gone. “We can’t be too long.”

Then, he fell asleep, leaving Tsunade to listen to the rain in silence, trying to pretend, for her own sanity, that she did not also feel the eyes.

* * *

 

At nearly three in the morning, Yoshiki and Yoshiko met Nagato in the Rain, in the same shack they met the orphans before. Yoshiki’s legs were shaking underneath him, though neither of the twins seemed bothered by it.

“Hey,” said Kakashi, once the door was shut. “Get here alright?”

Nagato nodded. “We’re ready.”

“Been careful?” asked Kakashi. Nagato nodded. “Good. Our other two guests will be arriving in a few days, depending on the circumstances. For now, I’ll pretend to be them.”

Putting his hands together, Kakashi created two clones and disguised them as Raiden and Kaiya—his disguise’s brother-in-law and niece.

“Do you think this will work?” asked Nagato. Though Kakashi still loathed Nagato, as much as he tried otherwise, his voice was so small that Kakashi saw Jiraiya’s point. Like Kabuto and Obito, Nagato was just a kid who could be better. “I just mean, Hanzō has the entirety of the Rain on his side. We don’t have enough people to fight them off.”

Kakashi and Tsunade exchanged a look, before he looked back towards Nagato. He really did not like him, did not trust him in the slightest, and he knew that Tsunade did not either. However, their plan hinged on Nagato, so while Kakashi could never forget death, he had to make himself forgive it.

“About that,” said Kakashi, forcing a smile. _He’s just a kid, he’s just a kid, he’s just a kid._ “Before we go back to the hideout, there’s a couple things I need to teach you about the Rinnegan.”

* * *

 

Early in the morning, Yoshiki, Yoshiko, Raiden, and Kaiya snuck into the Akatsuki hideout and were deposited in one of the spare rooms. When asked where Yoshiki’s sons, Dai and Jun, were, they explained that they temporarily left the boys with an old friend. Bettering the world with the Akatsuki was far too dangerous of a task for two young kids. Soon enough, when Yoshiki missed his sons to an unbearable degree, they would retrieve them. But, for now, they were determined to do all they could.

After a round of greetings, from some old faces and some new, the four of them seamlessly integrated into the Akatsuki like they had never left. Raiden told his stories, Yoshiko and Kaiya listened next to him, and Yoshiki sat in the back, watching his family and those that surrounded them.

* * *

 

Now that they were no longer under the watchful eyes of Konoha, Kakashi and Tsunade were mercifully free to continue their nightly sparring sessions. Despite their nerves and the chakra drain of maintaining both disguises and clones, both were sleeping better than they had in weeks. Somehow, the bunker and the Akatsuki were a more comforting constant than home; somehow, there were less enemies here.

“You know something,” said Tsunade, as they stood in one of the training rooms at three in the morning, seven days into their stay with the Akatsuki. Having sparred for nearly four hours, she was breathing heavily, and her face was scarlet. “We’re really out of shape.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Kakashi, bent over with his hands on his knees as he tried to hyperventilate oxygen into his lungs. He was not sure how his younger self managed being so weak. However, he supposed his thirteen-year-old self was not regularly sparring one of the Sannin. “I’ve never been stronger.”

Her hair was splayed in every direction like a busted hay bale, so she did her best to smooth it out of her eyes, using her sweat as a makeshift hair gel. “The desk-bound life is not a good look for either of us.”

“No,” he agreed. With a last, gasping breath, he stood back up. “Want to do another round?”

Nodding, she raised her fists. Just before she could rush at him and he could ready a jutsu, they felt a familiar burning against their legs. Both of them shoved their hands into their pockets and ran their fingers across Jiraiya’s line on their kunai.

 _Incoming_ , read his message.

After gathering their things, they rushed back to their room. It only took a minute, but by the time they opened the door, Jiraiya and Minato were already there.

“Hey,” said Minato, before noticing how nearly-asthmatic they were. “Where were you?”

“Sparring,” said Tsunade, leaning against the wall. “Took you two long enough. He’s left the village, then?”

Minato nodded. “Our village’s upper government is now being run by as many shadow clones as actual people. How long do you think we have before he shows?”

“If I had to guess, two days,” said Kakashi. “Three at the latest. After that, we need to start becoming suspicious that we’ve been made. He’ll want to get it over with as soon as possible.”

“Which is fortunate,” said Jiraiya. “Because I’d like to get it over with as soon as possible.” With a shrewd look, he glanced around at all of them, but his eyes lingered on Kakashi. “And, we _are_ ready?”

Minato and Tsunade turned towards Kakashi, too, taking their cues from him. Though he was no longer Hokage, and matters of the council were no longer his to bear, taking down Danzō was his mission, his brain-child. It was his job to be certain, so despite any of his private doubts, he was.

“We are.”

(Solvet Sæclum in Favilla)

It was raining, of course, but the earth paid it no mind. Rain was usual, expected, and there were far more interesting things slinking across the ground. The earth lingered for the ending, for it did not remember that which should have been, but there were those who did.

There were those who remembered that, on the day of rain—that day, there was a naive innocence and those who took advantage of it. A trap was laid on those that trusted too quickly, whose optimism for a better world was left unchecked. On the day of rain—that day, the hospitality they were extended was violated. One by one, they were slaughtered, unprepared, unknowing, and a totalitarian evil rose from the ashes of the dead.

The earth did not remember that history, but there were those who did, and they smiled upon the change.

A man, accompanied by two companions, arrived at a hideout in the Rain and feigned an offering of peace. Politely, a member of the company to whom the hideout belonged greeted him and escorted him inside, bringing him to the organization’s leader. As they made their way through the rusty halls, damnation radiated through the man’s every step, and the earth trembled in waiting beneath his feet.

Another man, accompanied by several companions, stood inside a hollowed mess-hall and refused to tear his eyes from the door. Comfortingly, one of his crew put her hand on his shoulder and whispered something encouraging in his ear (though she was not entirely sure who she was comforting—him or herself), but he hardly heard her. As he paced across the length of the room, damnation radiated through the man’s every step, and the earth trembled in waiting beneath his feet.

When the the first man entered the mess hall, he saw just one man, the leader, standing inside it, facing him in expectancy. For a quick moment, the world seemed to take a deep breath and freeze, watching the sepulcher, awaiting. Then, two different barriers went up, trapping the first man, his companions, and the leader inside.

The first was held by four cloaked ninja in each of the corners of the room, leaving its holders just outside the perimeters, leaving no one inside able to escape and no one outside to enter. The second was also held, impressively, by the ninja in the nearest right corner, along with a ninja in the middle-back of the room and the middle-left, which left the three of them inside it but still outside the initial barrier, trapping in their sound.

Before the first man could even react, another man, nearly a boy, with a shock of violet-red hair teleported inside the barrier, stabbed him with a needle, and teleported back out.

The person in the farthest, left corner knocked loudly on the ground twice. After a couple seconds, the person in the middle-back knocked as well.

“What is the meaning of this?” asked the first man, Kanzō, almost failing to suppress a groan from the needle puncture.

“Did you really think we were that stupid?” asked Yahiko.

“What are you talking about? We were sent by Hanzō to—”

“You’ve never taken orders from anyone in your life, Danzō Shimura.”

“ _Who_?” asked Kanzō. There was no change in his demeanor, but neither was there a change in Yahiko’s.

“If you are not Danzō Shimura, and the two ninja with you are not ROOT members—” Yahiko looked towards the two men with him. “—do me a favor and repeat the words ‘Danzō Shimura is currently committing treason in the Rain.’ If you are who you say you are, it should be simple.”

At their silence, Danzō knew that he had been bested. His demeanor immediately changed, his spine straightening. “Who are you?”

“You might as well give up your disguise. The blocker we gave you has almost completely diminished your ability to use chakra. But, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Danzō nodded, and both he and Yahiko dropped their disguises. “You’re not who I expected,” said Danzō. “You’re interrupting Konoha’s business, boy.”

“Am I?” asked Kakashi indifferently.

There was a brief moment of silence, as if Danzō was expecting him to say something else. “And, Tsunade’s here, too,” said Danzō, gesturing to the ninja in the near-right corner, whose eyes were glued to the floor. “Only one person could have the chakra strength and control to hold two barriers, yet be too cowardly to look the conflict in the face.”

“You will not taunt her any longer.” Despite the threat, Kakashi’s voice was still as even as before. “She does not need defending, of course, but she has had the restriction of diplomacy. I do not.”

“As an elder of Konoha, I’m ordering you to stand down.”

“I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Did Jiraiya put you up to this?” Kakashi said nothing in response. “Don’t you think it’s strange that he left his thirteen-year-old apprentice alone to deal with this? Let’s be honest with ourselves, despite your _nobleness_ ; Tsunade hardly counts.”

“I have all the protection I need. And, he’ll be here soon. He’s on his way to the Rain right now.”

“So, he is behind it?” asked Danzō. “Been training you for this?”

“I’m not supposed to tell you anything.”

Danzō narrowed his eyes, looking far less pleased at the possibility of dealing with Jiraiya, knowing it would be a death sentence. With the slightest of nods, he ordered the two ROOT members by his side to kill Kakashi. Unperturbed, Kakashi did not move, even to flinch. Instead, the same, red blur teleported into the field, struck down the ROOT members with ease, and teleported out as quickly as he entered.

“Had to be sure you were as well protected as you claimed,” said Danzō, seemingly unfazed. “My orders are far above your’s or Jiraiya’s pay grades. I don’t want to kill you, Kakashi, because I think you have potential. But, make no mistake, if you betray your country, I will kill you myself. Trust me, even without chakra, I can do it with ease. So, I tell you again, stand down.”

“Jiraiya said that you don’t have any orders,” said Kakashi. “That you were acting behind the Yondaime’s back.”

“Of course not,” said Danzō. “Whatever your new teacher has wrapped you up into, I assure you, he does not have the political experience to know what is best for our country. The people here are more dangerous than you know—dangerous to Konoha. You’re being played by the people you look up to.”

Kakashi appeared to falter for a moment, his posture growing smaller. “Jiraiya wouldn’t lie to me.”

“Did he tell you that these were his students?” Kakashi nodded. “Don’t you think that he might do whatever he could to protect them, even if it meant betraying the village’s government? Even worse than that, he’s using you as a scapegoat for treason to save them.”

“Minato-sensei trusts him,” said Kakashi.

“He’s playing Minato, too,” said Danzō. “Don’t you see? He’s had an agenda from the very beginning. He’s the one who took you on as an apprentice, brought Tsunade back to the village, and suggested Minato for Hokage. He’s used Minato to get village secrets, to know we were planning this mission.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Don’t listen to him, Kakashi!” said Tsunade.

“Because, I’ve always cared about Konoha,” said Danzō. “More than anything else. I’ve had years of experience learning how to best take care of it. As I’ve said, you’ve got potential, Kakashi. Jiraiya clearly thinks so, too. I know you have people you care about: the Yondaime, his wife, Obito, and Rin. Don’t you want to keep them safe? Or are you going to betray them, too?”

“Jiraiya said you were allied with Hanzō.”

“Sometimes, you have to make alliances you don’t mean. Hanzō is a foreign power who needs to go down, just like the people here, to preserve our peace. Now, I will only tell you one more time; stand down.”

“You know, the people here enjoy talking about philosophy,” said Kakashi. “So, it would be appropriate for us to talk about it in their halls. However, this is not about policy. This is about treason.” Where once his presentation was demure, he suddenly seemed much larger than his thirteen-year-old body would suggest. The wavering face of a boy was replaced with confidence, and though it could not be seen underneath the mask, his face broke out in a twisted grin which created an unnerving glimmer in his eyes. “And, I heard you were only planning on betraying Hanzō until after he helped you take down Konoha’s government. Or, was that what you told _me_?”

Once again, Danzō narrowed his eyes. Based on visuals alone, his body language did not change, but the ground nearly quaked underneath the quickening of his heartbeat. “Who are you?” he demanded.

The person in front of him shifted again, becoming much taller and paler, and his hair faded into black. “For a man whose job it is to know everything,” said Orochimaru, the horrible grin finally visible. “You really have no idea what’s going on, do you know? It doesn’t become you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Betraying you, obviously.”

“You’re bluffing,” said Danzō. “You’re not Orochimaru.”

“And, why do you say that?” asked Orochimaru, grinning wider, like a predator looking at his prey.

“Orochimaru’s smarter than that.”

Orochimaru bit his thumb so hard that it bled and pressed his hand to the ground. A two-foot snake appeared in his palm, hissing and wrangling as he picked it up off the floor. Grin never faltering, Orochimaru squeezed it until it bisected in his fists, and his own blood and the snake’s mingled as it dripped off his fingers.

“I wanted a village, Danzō,” said Orochimaru, dropping the two halves of the snake onto the ground. “You said you could get me Konoha, but you couldn’t even pull that off. As much as you like to claim it’s the other way around, you’re still the Third Hokage’s bitch.”

“Watch your tongue.”

“Or what?” Orochimaru’s posture was far more relaxed than his previous two alter egos’, nearly lackadaisical, clearly enjoying it. Not breaking eye contact, he licked the blood off his hands. “Did you honestly think Hanzō was going to pan out, even if we didn’t show up here?”

“What is it that you’re playing at, Orochimaru?” asked Danzō, ignoring him.

“Payback,” said Orochimaru, and his eyes grew cold. “See, Jiraiya’s been looking into you for a while, and your incompetence and conspicuousness lead him to my lab. He put two and two together and confronted me. But, I’m not done with Konoha, yet, so I struck a deal. He found taking you down and saving his old students in the process to be a _very_ fair trade.”

“And just like that?” asked Danzō. “He was willing to overlook everything you’ve done? Don’t play me for a fool—you and I both know that Jiraiya is honorable to his own detriment.”

“That wasn’t all I traded, and he hates you more. But, the rest isn’t your business. And, after all, he and I were teammates, once upon a time. Nostalgia’s deadly.”

“You need me. Without me, nothing you want to do will be possible.”

“I needed your knowledge and your secrecy. Unfortunately, it turns out you have neither. What good are you to me, now?”

“No one will trust you after this,” said Danzō. “I gave you all the resources and man power you wanted.”

“You also got me caught, so I’ll take my chances. Live bodies and scrolls and chemicals are much easier to find if I’ve not been executed.”

As much as Danzō wanted to weasel his way out of a confrontation with Jiraiya, he looked even less pleased that he was being cornered by Orochimaru. His heart rate raced even faster, in time to the rain outside, rising into his throat and convulsing the ground beneath him. “We had a deal.”

“I have _genuinely_ never been a man of my word.” Throwing back his head, Orochimaru laughed harshly. “But, to be fair, neither are you. You and I betrayed my old sensei more times than I can bother counting. What’s one more betrayal?” With another laugh and a loud, popping sound, Orochimaru turned back into Kakashi. However, his body language did not change, still just as relaxed. “At least, that’s what I imagine Orochimaru would say.”

“What?” asked Danzō, uncharacteristically thrown off.

“Surprise,” said Kakashi. “I lied.”

Danzō said nothing, just watching, unmoving.

“You know, you were close, towards the end,” said Kakashi. “Suspecting that Tsunade might be in deeper than everyone thought. But, your biggest mistake was not suspecting me. Sure, you scheduled a couple ninja outside my apartment, but they were easy enough to lose. You didn’t even notice Tsunade and I leave the village.”

“You seem very certain that I didn’t know what you were planning.”

“If you did, you were very stupid to come here.” Kakashi pointed towards the furthest-left corner. “Even the Sharingan, as useful as it is, cannot tell a shadow clone from a person. However, the Rinnegan can. That’s what that knock was—confirming that you weren’t a shadow clone. The second knock was confirmation that the chakra blocker worked and all of your shadow clones had dispelled, so you couldn’t run around making a fuss—”

Interrupting Kakashi, Danzō’s hand quickly reached for his own belt. However, before he could execute whatever last-minute move he was planning on, the red figure returned, knocked his face straight into the ground, and disappeared.

“Too slow,” said Kakashi.

“What is this game of chess we’re playing?” asked Danzō, spitting blood out of his mouth and getting up off the ground as he tried to grasp at the upper hand.

“I _am_ playing chess,” admitted Kakashi. “But, unfortunately for you, you’re not my opponent. You’re just the sacrificial pawn at the start of the game.”

“Who are you?” asked Danzō again.

“Kakashi Hatake.” Though it still could not be seen, save for the glint in his eyes, a twisted smile once again danced across his face. “Maybe. Or, maybe—”

Kakashi began to walk around the room, his arm stretched out behind him. From his fingertips, a shadow clone appeared. “—I’m Hanzō,” said the clone, disguised as such. “And figured out you were planning on betraying me after I helped you destroy Konoha. Do you deny it?”

“Or maybe—” said Kakashi.

As he continued to walk, a new clone appeared next to Hanzō, creating an unmoving line behind Kakashi. “—I’m Hiruzen Sarutobi,” said the clone, disguised as such. “Who grew tired of your treason during my reign. Do you deny it?”

“Or maybe—”

Another clone appeared in the line. “—I’m Minato Namikaze,” it said. “Who figured out you were intending to eventually kill me and take over Konoha. Do you deny it?”

“What are you do—” said Danzō.

“ _Or maybe_ —” interrupted Kakashi.

Three more clones. “—I’m Yahiko,” one of them said, Konan and Nagato behind him. “Who figured out you were planning on luring us into a trap with false promises of diplomacy in order to slaughter us. Do you deny it?”

“Or maybe—”

“I’m Fugaku Uchiha,” said the next clone. “Who found out you were planning on stealing my clan’s eyes and disposing of us when you could. Do you deny it?”

“Or maybe—”

The next clone was a generic ninja in a Konoha flak jacket, with a gaping hole in his chest. “—I’m one of the ninja who died during the Third Ninja World War,” it said. “Who was killed when you escalated and extended the conflict by murdering ninja on all sides, ours included. Do you deny it?”

“Or maybe I’m God,” said Kakashi, and all the clones vanished, leaving him and Danzō alone in the barrier once more. “And, I know all the things that you’ve done. _Do you deny them_?”

For the first time in a long time, Danzō felt fear.

For the first time in a long time, Kakashi was completely without.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Danzō; to his credit, he recovered quickly.

“I see all, Danzō.” Kakashi continued his slow, leisurely walk. “There’s no hiding, now.”

Danzō smiled, cold and hateful. “You know, we’re a lot alike, you and I.”

“Maybe so,” said Kakashi, not bothered by the suggestion.

Once again, the red-haired figure returned to the barrier, bringing a blue-haired girl along with him. They immediately dropped their disguises, morphing into Minato and Jiraiya respectively.

“Good enough,” said Minato.

“Surprise,” said Kakashi, never taking his eyes off Danzō. With a sharp exhale, Danzō took a step backward. “I lied again. They’ve been here the whole time.”

“Danzō,” said Minato, looking at the man in front of him, and his eyes darkened. “With the power vested in me as Hokage, I am charging you with treason, and your sentence is death.”

Not even the best ninja alive could last long in a close-quarters fight with Minato and Jiraiya, much less Danzō on chakra-blockers. Calling it a fight would be an overstatement; it lasted only four seconds, ending with Danzō knocked to the floor on his knees. Jiraiya and Minato stood on both sides of him, holding his arms to keep him in place.

When Minato met Kakashi’s eyes, he hesitated before relenting. “As we agreed.”

Kakashi closed the gap between him and Danzō.

“How do you think it will feel?” asked Danzō, looking up to Kakashi with hate in his eyes. “Knowing that you’re the reason Konoha burned to the ground?”

Kakashi had to admit, that was the first thing Danzō said that got to him. But, it would be the last.

“My only regret,” said Kakashi, leaning in close to Danzō. “Is that death is peaceful, and that’s _far_ better than you deserve.”

Balling lightning between his fingers, Kakashi shoved his hand through Danzō’s chest.

The earth laughed.

* * *

 

When Kakashi plunged his signature jutsu through Danzō, Tsunade looked up. She was not sure why she looked—whether it was just a reflex from hearing what sounded like a thousand birds chirping or a deep-seated need to watch Danzō die—but she witnessed his death from start to finish.

Just as Kakashi said, it was not a bloodless death. The lightning did cauterize part of his chest, but it wasn’t perfect, and blood dripped down Kakashi’s arms and onto the ground. She wondered, briefly, if he felt better in that moment or if he thought of Rin, just as she was thinking of Dan. Though she still registered the mess hall, it started to fade out of existence, blurring with the quickening pulse of her heartbeat. Like it was dripping down Kakashi’s, blood dripped down her arms, pooling out of Dan’s chest. Everything was in the present and in the past, and in the wild daze of the moment, she froze.

Still, with the vague visual of Danzō laying dead on the floor, downfall never tasted so sweet.

“We have to get out of here,” said a voice. “Yahiko and Konan, start evacuating the rest of the Akatsuki. Hanzō probably already knows the mission has gone south, and we don’t have much time. Nagato, help them, and remember what we talked about. Minato, Jiraiya, we have to burn the bodies of the ROOT members. The story will be easier to explain if we only bring back one body.”

People began to rush by her in a swirl of colors, but she barely registered them, only the painful tightening of her chest. She couldn’t move or speak—she wasn’t even sure she was breathing.

After the flurry of the crowd, three people stood in front of her and flames erupted from their hands. The room was filled with waves of orange and red, then the putrid smell of burning flesh and hair. Finally, she was able to cross her arms over her face, to protect herself from the heat and debris. But, that didn’t stop the feeling that she was choking, from the smell, from the smoke, from her failing, gasping breaths. She tried to stand, at least to get away from the direct flames, but her legs were shaking so violently that she couldn’t get off the floor.

“Tsunade, we have to go,” said one of the figures in front of her, a different voice, stopping his onslaught of flames. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Though it felt like her whole body was made of lead, she managed to shake her head. “Did you look? Why the hell did you look?”

“I’ve got Tsunade,” said the first voice. Carefully, he knelt down to her level, placed his arm around her, and pulled her upward. “Jiraiya, grab the body and catch up to Yahiko and Konan at the front. If Hanzō gets to us before we can get to the next hideout, they’ll need you. I’ll head up the rear with Nagato. Minato, get back to the village. Remember what we planned.”

A man with yellow hair— _Minato_ , she thought. _My cousin’s husband, my Hokage_ —nodded. “See you guys in a few days. Be careful.”

“Good luck,” said the second man, placing his hand on Minato’s shoulder. _Jiraiya_ , she realized. _My teammate, my best friend_. “If anything goes wrong, let us know.”

Nodding, Minato blinked away. With one last look towards the man supporting her— _Kakashi, my confidant, the future man_ —Jiraiya clenched his fist and gently brought it down on Kakashi’s shoulder, as a last gesture of good luck. Then, he was gone.

“You have to disguise yourself,” said Kakashi, morphing into her disguise’s twin.

Resisting the urge to take in a deep breath of toxic air, she did as he asked. With ash flurrying around them, they burst into the main hall, which had dissolved into complete chaos as people fled in droves. Their panicked yelling thudded against her eardrums and coiled around her brain, leaving her unable to think, and it was far more suffocating than the layer of cinders weighing in her lungs. Kakashi led her outside amongst the mass of people, but instead of following the crowd through the forest to the new hideout, Kakashi used the pandemonium to slink off the the left.

Tsunade was not sure how long they hid behind the trees, watching the colorful blurs rush by. Eventually, the crowd thinned to halt, leaving just a man with violet-red hair standing at the entrance of their hideout. Taking this as his cue, Kakashi quickly drug her onward, following the coattails of the Akatsuki, rougher than he had previously.

“Shinra Tensei!” said a loud voice behind them, up in the air.

The earth around them exploded, and the radiating border of a shock wave pushed against her back like a shove, causing both her and Kakashi to stumble before regaining their footing. As she heard the hideout crumble to the ground in their wake, destroying all evidence that they once occupied it, she felt Kakashi give a violent shudder.

* * *

 

It took Minato only seconds to reach his shadow clone, which was sitting in his office in Konoha, quietly doing paperwork despite the lateness of the hour. Minato decided to leave him to it; it would have been dishonorable to not go himself. Though he smelled of flames, he would soon smell of flames, anyway.

Adrenaline pulsed through his veins, and time was of the essence. But, he paused for a moment as some of the reality set it. He was comparatively uninvolved in Danzō’s death, playing only jury to Kakashi’s judge and executioner. Still, it was his very first sentence as Hokage, and it was on the person in Konoha whose power was second only to his own.

Now, he was alone. The Sixth was not here, and the Third Hokage was certainly not here. It was time for the Fourth Hokage, hopefully buried somewhere deep inside of him, to truly take his first steps.

So, taking a deep breath, he stepped forward.

“I need you to meet me at the ROOT hideout,” said Minato, to one of the three ANBU stationed outside of his office. It was late enough in the evening that the Hokage’s offices were cleared, save for him and his guard. Kakashi, before he left, gave him a list of ANBU members he could trust most, and Minato made a point of making sure they were the ones guarding him. “With as many empty boxes and canisters of Ethanol as you and one other can carry.”

“Yes, Hokage, sir,” she said, nodding in respect, before taking off.

“You,” said Minato, turning to one of the others. “Wait fifteen minutes, and then visit the Third Hokage at his home and ask him to meet me at the ROOT hideout immediately.”

If the ANBU ninja found his order odd, he did not voice it. “Sir,” he said, before running off just like the previous one.

“And, you,” said Minato, to the one remaining. He was one of the higher ranking ANBU captains, Chikara Koyano. “Come with me.”

Though Minato did run to the ROOT hideout, Chikara trailing behind him, he slowed to a power walk once he was inside it. With a last deep breath, he held his head high and pushed his shoulders back, digging up every ounce of confidence he could manage—for his wife and his village and to live up to the person Kakashi, Jiraiya, and Tsunade believed him to be. This wasn’t wholly different than fighting and war, he reasoned, only with the exchanging of words rather than blows.

Once they reached the main hall, the remaining ROOT members were just hovering inside of it, frighteningly still. No doubt, they realized what happened. Seeing Minato, they wondered what that meant for them.

“As I’m sure you’ve all noticed,” said Minato, once they summoned everyone before him, projecting his voice. It reverberated off the metal walls, echoing throughout the hall. “Danzō is dead.” Minato swore he heard a sharp intake of breath from Chikara, but he paid it no mind. “No, we don’t know what happened. But, I don’t care where you think he was, or what you think he was doing. Whatever happened, he is dead, now, and you have no direction. So, should you integrate into the ANBU quietly and answer any questions we have, you will not be charged with any crimes you may have committed against me or any of the previous Hokage. Should you refuse, you will be charged with treason and executed. Are we clear?”

In the chaotic stillness of the moment, the pace to which the ROOT members agreed was sporadic, all still in shock. For all their lives, they had been broken-in to obey Danzō without thought, and the question of afterward was never considered. However, the agreements did come.

“Take them back to the ANBU barracks,” said Minato to Chikara, leaning in close enough that the ROOT members could not hear. “Just get them set up for now. We’ll figure out what exactly we’re doing with them later. Should you notice anything…odd, report back immediately.”

By the time, they got everyone shuffled out, the original ANBU and one other arrived with their boxes and barrels. Hastily, Minato ordered them to help him pack as many of Danzō’s notes and records into the boxes as they could—the ones that Kakashi told him were most important. After they were finished, Minato sent them away, instructing them to bring the boxes to his office.

Then, he was alone, standing in the now-empty base with only his thoughts for company. Taking one of the barrels, Minato flung the ignition fluid first over the remaining notes, and then all over Danzō’s office. When that was covered, he took to the storage areas, the barracks, and the main hall itself. As rage pounded in his ears, he seethed over everything Danzō had already done to Konoha and the rest of the world, how much worse everywhere was left in his regime. How much worse things would get, and how much was overlooked by the people that Konoha mistakenly trusted to protect them. How much _he_ would have been made to overlook, trusting the same people. The entire hideout was just a manifestation of the government’s poison, and he drenched it.

After his supply was depleted, Minato stopped in the entrance hall. He wanted his anger to carry him through, to feel nothing but fury as he tore everything to the ground. But, there were three people in the Rain who knew him well and trusted him anyway, and that was enough to give him pause. Kakashi warned him that being Hokage meant putting aside the man, the human, the husband, the soon-to-be father—that there was an otherworldly persona he would have to find within himself. Hokage were not people, he told him, but rather characters, whose impossibility was in fact impossible, because the people of Konoha needed more than just a person could give them.

Minato thought he had already found it, in his extensive battle experience, but with everything in front of him, he only just now understood. The Third Hokage was stern and wise, even though Hiruzen Sarutobi was complicit. The Sixth Hokage was unwavering and clever, even though Kakashi Hatake was a man so haunted by his past that, during their two days of sharing a room in the Rain, Minato was not sure he saw him sleep once.

Currently, Minato was bitter and unsure, but Minato was not the man who needed to be in the room. Anger worked for the Fifth Hokage, but Minato was not her anymore than he was the Third or Sixth. His predecessors and successors were all powerful, wickedly intelligent, and capable, but the Konoha under each of them was not the one he was currently facing.

The Fourth Hokage, he realized, would be born out of this moment. It was now Minato’s choice as to what he would be.

So, closing his eyes, his chose to let the anger and the uncertainty go. Instead of picturing the wrongdoings of Danzō, he pictured the Konoha in Kakashi’s mind. He pictured the village in a time of prosperity and peace, where quality of life was better, and children and civilians were safer. Konoha was better for what they did, and Minato had an obligation to his son to give him the world that Kakashi saw. The Fourth Hokage had an obligation to his village to give them the world that the Sixth Hokage saw. He allowed himself, for the first time since being sworn in, to feel _sure_.

He balled a fire jutsu in his fists for the second time that day and unleashed it into the hideout.

The ethanol in the main hall caught fire immediately, and the flames roared across the floor. However, the igniter would not do all the work, so he continued to walk through the primary areas, throwing fire with great force. It pummeled into the walls, licked up into the ceilings, and started to crumble what remained. The heat was unbearable, but Minato barely felt it. His mind was not in the present, not anymore, but in the future.

For Konoha’s sake, he burned, and he burned, and he burned.

(Journey Into the Unknown)

By the time the Third Hokage arrived, Minato was finished, sitting on the steps at the entrance and watching the world around him burn. Minato stood when the Third approached and bowed respectfully in greeting.

“What happened?” asked the Third, looking wildly between Minato and the flames.

Minato bit his lip and looked at him for a long moment. From his pitying expression, the Third guessed what happened before Minato even opened his mouth. “Danzō is dead,” said Minato.

It took the Third a moment, in turn, to speak, and when he did, it was breathless. “What happened?” he asked again.

“I have no idea. He wasn’t in the village, apparently. All of his seals spontaneously released and his shadow clone disappeared. ROOT knew it happened when it happened.” Turning back towards the flames, Minato recalled the words Kakashi told him to say. “I’m worried that someone did it for information and was planning on infiltrating the village, so I moved all of the ROOT members into the ANBU hideout, took all of Danzō’s relevant notes and records to my office, and torched the place. It’ll send a message to anyone near that we already know and to not try anything.”

In all actuality, it was to make sure no one in Konoha could stumble upon how deep the rot went. But, that was only for him, Kakashi, Jiraiya, and Tsunade to know.

“We have to send out a team—”

“I already have,” said Minato. “Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Kakashi left the village a few minutes ago. Between Jiraiya and Kakashi, I’m hoping they can track which direction he went. In the meantime, I’m going to look over his notes to see if there’s anything useful in there. They’re encoded, but I think, with time, I can translate them.”

“Right,” whispered the Third. It was the first time Minato had ever seen him look taken aback. “We also need to interview all of the ROOT members, to see if they knew where he was. If nothing comes of that, we need to send out more teams. ANBU teams. We have to figure it out.”

Minato nodded. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” And, he was. Despite ordering the execution himself, despite the fact that it needed to happen, Minato felt sorry for him. While Danzō was a government official—and a corrupt one, at that—to the Third Hokage, he was first and foremost, on some level, a friend. “We _will_ figure it out.”

“Right,” whispered the Third again.

In silence, they stood beside the flames for a minute, letting the heat shield them from the bitter, January air. While the Third did nothing but watch the smoke rise into the air, trying to process what happened, Minato watched the Third, as if waiting for direction. Minato had his instructions from Kakashi, but part of those instructions were to listen to the Third as much as possible. It decreased their suspiciousness if Minato appeared as uncoordinated and unprepared as could be managed.

“We have a lot to do,” said the Third, not taking his eyes off the sky. “We need to gather the council and plan what comes next.”

“Ready when you are.” Minato placed his hand on the Third’s shoulder and tried not to let the word _liar_ bleed through his body language. “I _am_ sorry.”

Then, smelling of smoke and ignition fluid, the Fourth Hokage left.

* * *

 

Despite all the notable events in Tsunade’s life, only one seemed to really matter, that separated her life neatly into a before and after: Dan’s death. Her two, distinct life phases, when everything was in front of her and nothing was in front of her. When all was won and all was lost. There was bad that happened in the first part of her life and good that happened in the second, but for the most part, her life was easily classified into a period of uphill climb and a period of downward fall.

When Kakashi and Tsunade arrived at their and Jiraiya’s room at the new Akatsuki hideout—Tsunade’s awareness of herself arriving with them—she wondered what moments split up Kakashi’s life and how many of them there were. Surely, there must have been several: the death of Sakumo, the year everyone he loved died, being put in charge of Team Seven, the Fourth Ninja World War, coming back in time.

As she looked at Jiraiya, who was sitting on his bed and writing in a notebook, still disguised as both Raiden and Kaiya, she wondered how many he had—moments where things were never the same again. She wondered how many she could guess: becoming a part of _their_ Team Seven, receiving his prophecy, being dubbed as one of the Sannin, and the Sannin breaking up. She wondered how many phases of his life she missed.

However, Tsunade had just the two, perfectly-bisected halves, that made everything else seem inconsequential: before Dan’s death and afterward.

She wished loving him had been as influential as losing him, but there were many things in her life she wished she could wish away.

“Everything go okay?” asked Jiraiya, closing his notebook.

“Hideout was destroyed,” said Kakashi, nodding. “I hung back and we weren’t followed. You?”

Jiraiya shook his head. “We didn’t run into anyone.”

“I’m sorry,” said Tsunade sheepishly. “I didn’t mean…I was hoping…”

“S’okay,” said Jiraiya. “No harm done. Danzō’s dead, we weren’t followed, and Minato has yet to come back panicking.”

“Don’t jinx it,” said Kakashi, collapsing on his own bed, and Tsunade followed suit. “I’m begging you.”

For a long moment, none of them said anything, taking a moment to breathe. They were all disgusting and would later regret collapsing onto their beds without showering. But, they were all so exhausted that, for now, they gave it little thought.

“Yo,” said Jiraiya, looking over to Kakashi and breaking the silence. “You were kind of hot today.”

Kakashi rolled his eyes. “What the hell took you and Minato so long to intervene?”

“I think Minato wanted to see what you could do,” said Jiraiya. “But, after you pulled out the ‘might be a god’ card, I warned him you were probably running out of conventional ideas and we were running out of time.”

“It was about to start getting a lot weirder,” confirmed Kakashi. “Attempting to seduce Danzō using Naruto’s sexy jutsu was on my list of last resorts, to name one.”

“I don’t know if that would have been more or less hot.”

“Shut up, Jiraiya.”

Though he opened his mouth to speak, Jiraiya paused awkwardly, and after he finally spoke, Tsunade understood why. “How’d you do the snake thing?”

“I asked Nagato if he would catch me a couple snakes,” said Kakashi. “So I could imprint some summoning seals on them. We’d been keeping them in a box in the kitchen.”

Jiraiya wrinkled his nose. “I admire your dedication.” Though his tone was light and joking, there was an odd, uncomfortable lilt to it, almost as if he brought up Orochimaru just to see how indifferent he could be about it. “And drinking snake’s blood. It was convincing.”

“Thank you. It was disgusting.”

Tsunade wanted to banter with them, to finally let loose. It was _over_ , after all, and no matter what came after, that alone deserved a sigh of relief. But, she was plagued by that which so often plagued her, amplified by Danzō’s word.

 _Let us be honest with ourselves, despite your_ nobleness; _Tsunade hardly counts._

He died doing what he loved, it seemed—committing treason and shitting on her out of nowhere.

“Do you feel better?” she asked Kakashi.

He hummed in confirmation. “At the very least, it’s over.”

“Good.” Kneeling beside her bed, she rummaged for her medical supplies. “Then, roll up your sleeve.”

With a moment of hesitation, Kakashi narrowed his eyes. “Are you certain?”

“I want to remember Danzō’s death,” said Tsunade sharply, narrowing her eyes right back. “And enjoy it.”

Though Kakashi suppressed it quickly, the beginnings of a smile flashed across his face. Consenting, he rolled up his sleeve. She went through all of her preliminary steps, having to run to the bathroom halfway through to wash her hands. Then, it was just her, the needle, and the vein in front of her, and all else seemed to fade away.

Like always, the desire the run struck her—to just calmly put down her medical supplies, leave the room, and sprint out into the countryside of the Rain, never to talk to any of these people again. But, she refused to give Danzō the postmortem satisfaction of being right. Somewhere deep inside of her, courage was baked into her core. Her grandfather had not started the village and her grandmother had not controlled the Nine-Tailed Fox for decades just for her to give up now.

Besides, how could she look Kushina in the face and promise she would save her, if she could not look at her own inevitability—her continuous undoing—and say, “Not today?”

Gripping the needle in her hands tightly to steady the quaking of her arms, she decided it was time to split her life once again. It was a clumsy chopping at several moments, much less clean than her first split, months of grasping at straws and clawing her way to victory. But, she refused to give up, for all those who paved the way before her. For her grandfather, Nawaki, and Dan, for Jiraiya, Kakashi, Kushina, and Minato, for Konoha, for the world, and for _herself_. She was doing this for the seven-year-old Tsunade who still had light in her eyes, for the seventeen-year-old Tsunade who thought she might be great forever, for the twenty-seven-year-old Tsunade who thought her life was over, and for the thirty-seven-year-old Tsunade who was tired of being called a coward.

For them, she slid the needle into Kakashi’s arm and watched the blood flow out of it.

She froze as the familiar panic started to set in, the familiar shifting of scenery, but she tried to fight against every, involuntary action her body was taking. Drowning in an ocean of quickening heartbeats and sweating and shaking and the overwhelming feeling that they were under attack, she grabbed at every rational thought still left in her, trying to find some of that determination and anger again.

“Talk it through,” said Jiraiya, beside her. “What are you feeling?”

“It’s a Sunday.” She was not sure she could have stopped the words if she wanted to. They tumbled out just as involuntarily as everything else, as if her body was grabbing at its last lifeline. “And the weather is terrible.”

Using the words to steady herself, Tsunade let Kakashi’s blood finish filling the tube, never taking her eyes off it. Passively watching the flow, she described what she saw and what she felt. Though her hands were still shaking, she removed the vial from the needle when it was finished, removed the needle from his arm, and carefully put everything in a waste bag.

It took her a few moments, still staggered by the experience, to process what happened—what she had just managed to do. When she turned back towards Jiraiya and Kakashi, the former was grinning from ear to ear and the latter was, once again, collectedly trying not to but beaming with pride all the same. She wished she could say something more coherent in the triumph of the moment, but all that came out of her was an inelegant:

“Holy _shit._ ”

* * *

 

Waiting for her husband to return to her, Kushina was starting to feel like she was in prison.

Beyond the physical confinement, the anxiety was maddening. Kushina was not used to feeling afraid, but she was not used to feeling trapped, either: in her house, in her own body, on the sidelines, looming ever closer to a certain date. Fear did not suit her, but things the way they were, she could not seem to stop it.

She was going to die in 260 days. Not that she was keeping track—had sat down with her calendar to count them and double-checked when they seemed too few. Not that the number pounded in her head like a bad hangover, even when she tried to block it out with Tsunade’s and Minato’s assurances that everything would be fine.

But, somehow even worse than that, in the short term, was the _boredom._ With no one to talk to and no ability to leave, all she had for company was her own thoughts and the interior of her home, both of which got old after a few days. She supposed she had the Nine-Tails, too, but she was not in the mood to try again with him.

The isolation had given her plenty of time to bake and cook, a chance to experiment with all the things she had been wanting to try but had never found the occasion. But, she could hardly do that all day, every day. Minato had brought her home several books to read, but she could not stand to read every hour of every day like he could. However, Tsunade warned her that she had to keep her stress levels as low as possible, so she refused to give in to the monotony. She settled on bouncing around several things, to and fro from her old hobbies to some newer ones she was attempting to take up: origami, drawing, and embroidering. She was not very good at any of them yet, but she was determined to get at least functional at one of them. During the day, their living room was littered with craft projects that she hastily threw in her kitchen cabinets right before Minato got home every night, to spare him from the chaos.

Restlessly waiting up for him, as she had the past few nights, since Minato’s real self disappeared to the Rain, Kushina was less contained than usual. So, when she finally heard Minato unlock the front door around eleven-thirty, she had to quickly shove everything she had been working on underneath the sofa. Everything hit the floor with scattered clanks as she kicked it out of sight, but she hoped he would not pay it much mind.

“I’m home,” he said, when she finally met him in their entry. When she kissed him, he smelled of smoke and tasted like ash, which made her wrinkle her nose. “ _Really_ home.”

“Is it done?” she asked. He nodded. “Is everything okay, then?”

“Yes. Everything went as expected.”

As she rested her head on his shoulder (he really did smell claustrophobically of sweat and smoke, and she would have to wash her hair again, but she was so glad that, for a moment, she did not mind), a weight lifted off her chest. If nothing else, Danzō was gone and would never get the chance to harm the village or _her son_ any further. Though Kakashi had not written her back, nor had she expected him to, he kept his unspoken promise, and they all made it through their first phase. It gave her a little bit of hope that the future might not be as permanent as she feared.

“And, Kakashi?” she asked. “What do you think of him now?”

After a quick pause, Minato smiled, though it was hollow and exhausted. “I think he’s telling the truth.” His tone was tense, but she did not know if it was a response to the question or the stress of the day. “And, I’m very glad he’s on our side and not theirs.”

* * *

 

 _It was a Tuesday, and the weather was clear—an old, familiar dream._ The _dream. An enemy so frequent that its presence was more tiring than frightening. It had not come to him since his return back in time, but he suspected the dream would always be his, like a scar that would never quite fade._

_Electricity crackled blue in his palm and bird-like chirping threatened to deafen him. Before he could move his hand out of the way (though, he had stopped pleading with the inevitability long ago), the Lightning Cutter plunged straight through her chest. His own blood ran cold as hers pooled out of the arm-sized hole in her abdomen, staining her green overall-dress and dripping off of her long, red hair. The tailed-beast chakra inside of her began to fade._

_“Kakashi,” said Kushina, her voice breathless as she began to fade, too. “Kakashi!”_

Kakashi awoke, sitting upwards with a jolt, arm outstretched in front of him.

“You alright?” whispered a female voice.

Blinking the darkness out of his eyes, he looked up to find Kushina staring back at him. It startled him so severely that he involuntarily leapt backwards, and his head collided with the wall.

“Shit,” said Kakashi, equally as quiet. To ease the sting, he rubbed the back of his head

Before anyone had a chance to blink, Jiraiya was out of his bed, a kunai clutched tightly in his fist. “The hell’s going on?” Despite his alert stance, his words slurred.  He had clearly been in sleeping deeply until the sound roused him. “Everyone okay?”

Kakashi studied his surroundings a moment more, and he realized that he was looking at Tsunade, not Kushina. He, she, and Jiraiya were still in the bunker, and though they were now on edge, they were safe. Undisturbed, Danzō’s body bag was still stretched across the floor at their feet.

“Nothing,” said Kakashi. “Air. I just…need air.”

Half-mad in panic, he leaped off his bed and burst out of their room. Trapped in the bunker, he knew air was not a luxury he would find. Instead, he settled on rushing to the bathroom and splashing water on his face.

For a long moment, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, watching as the water dripped off his face. A few hours ago, he felt triumphant—Danzō was dead, the Akatsuki were safe, and Tsunade managed to look at blood long enough to carry out a blood draw. Now, he was less certain of their victory.

Not sure what else to do, he took another handful of water and drenched his face with it.

_What the hell was that?_

* * *

 

Standing behind the observation mirror of an interrogation room at three a.m., Minato hoped, for what must have been the thousandth time that day, that Kakashi Hatake knew what he was doing.

He had not stayed home for long, waiting only until Kushina fell asleep. As he needed stealth above all else, he could not afford to lose the cover of the late-night crowd in the streets. Earlier, he and the Third interviewed ROOT members to find out Danzō’s location, with Minato taking care to appear secondary to the Third’s interrogation. After a consensus was reached—that Danzō was making his way to the Rain when he died—Minato feigned sending the message to Jiraiya and the council agreed to break for the evening. A message was sent to the Daimyō and a team was sent to find Danzō’s body, which was all that could be done today.

At least, for the rest of the council; Minato’s agenda was just beginning. In secret, he woke Inoya Yamanaka, who was the head of the Konoha Analysis team, so he could interrogate ROOT members for him. Thought Minato gave him little information—just that Danzō was dead and he had been translating his notes—Inoya asked few questions. It was a task far better suited for the Konoha Torture and Interrogation Force, but half the reason for the spectacle was to have Inoya become in-the-know about Danzō’s activities by seeming happenstance. Inoya was the head of the Yamanaka clan, which was a major and powerful clan in its own right. But, it also had close ties with the Akimichi and Nara clans, all arguably more loyal to one another than to Konoha itself, which made Inoya a powerful ally to have.

So, Minato stood in the viewing room adjacent to the interrogation room where Inoya and the first ROOT member were sitting opposite one another and hoped for the one thousand first time that day that Kakashi knew what he was doing. One of the scribes for the Interrogation Division sat next to Minato, notepad in hand, ready to transcribe.

“State your name for me,” said Inoya.

“Danzō called me Yuki,” she said.

“Do you have a name apart from the one Danzō gave you?”

“If I do, I don’t know it.”

Apart from exhaustion, there was no emotion on her face. It was not even the relaxed, unassuming persona that a good ninja was taught to adapt when being interrogated—just effortless emptiness. Kakashi assured him that emotions could be taught, that humanity could not be stripped from people so easily, and Minato wondered, in this moment, with her whole life turned upside down, what she might be feeling. Was she worried, even a little? Or was this just a continuation of her duty that she had been brainwashed to accept without question?

“What were your whereabouts, earlier this evening, when the Hokage told you of Danzō’s death?”

“I was in our headquarters, waiting for orders.”

“And, were you aware of Danzō’s dead when it happened?”

She nodded. “We all were. When we become a part of ROOT, Danzō gives us seals that prevent us from speaking about him. But, shortly before the Hokage came to us, they vanished. If he was not dead, I would not be able to be here, answering your questions.”

“The Hokage has assured me,” said Inoya. “That if you cooperate, you will not face charges for anything you have done. However, if you withhold any information or attempt to lie, you will be executed for treason. He has already started to translate Danzō’s notes, so he will know if you are lying. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

Not breaking eye contact with her, Inoya leaned forward. “Have you committed any crimes under Danzō’s orders that directly go against any orders given by the Third or Fourth Hokage, or have you otherwise committed any acts that either the Third or Fourth Hokage might find treasonous?”

She thought on it for a moment. “There are two.”

“And, they are?”

“First,” she said. “I was ordered, during the Third Ninja World War, to kill as many Konoha ninja as I thought necessary to prolong the duration of the war.”

The scribe briefly fumbled with his pen in shock, dropped it onto his pad of paper, and hastily picked it back up again, as if hoping Minato had not noticed.

“Did he say why he asked that of you?” asked Inoya, not pausing.

“He did not.”

“Was anyone besides Danzō and ROOT aware of this?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“And, your second crime?”

“I have been studying the Uchiha clan,” said Yuki. “Danzō wanted to slowly kill the entire clan off and steal their Sharingan. It was my job to gather information on them and figure out who among them was the weakest and the easiest way to kill them without alerting anyone.”

“Did he say why he wanted the Uchiha clan gone or their eyes?”

“He did not.”

“And, was anyone besides Danzō and ROOT aware of this?”

She nodded. “Homura Mitokado and Koharu Utatane were aware.”

Though the scribe did not drop his pen this time, he did pause, look intensely at Yuki through the glass, and, without turning his head, look up at Minato with the same expression.

“Is there anything else you have to add?” asked Inoya, to which she shook her head. “Very well.”

To verify everything, Inoya stood up, walked behind her, and placed his hand on her head. With one of his clan’s jutsu, he poured through her memories for nearly a minute. Then, he knocked on the door of the interrogation room. Two ANBU ninja came in and escorted Yuki from the room. Instead of asking for his next interrogatee, Inoya followed them out and entered the viewing room.

“A word, if you would,” said Inoya to Minato, before looking pointedly at the scribe.

With a nod of his head, Minato ordered the the scribe to leave. Nodding back in respect, the scribe put down his notebook and left the room.

“I did tell you it would be top secret,” said Minato, once he was gone.

“You did,” said Inoya. “But, there is a difference between top secret and—” He gestured vaguely towards the interrogation room, before sighing. “—though, I do now see the wisdom of doing this in the middle of the night.”

Leaning back against the door, Inoya stared at him for far longer than was comfortable, and Minato did not even have to act like he was frazzled to keep up appearances. Despite having showered, the smoke had yet to leave his sinus passages, leaving him unable to even breathe without the constant reminder of his current predicament.

“May I ask you question?” asked Minato. “Off the record.”

“Of course.”

“What would you do, if you were in my position?”

With a deep breath, Inoya thought for a moment. “My son’s wife is pregnant with my first grandchild,” he said, which might have sounded irrelevant if Minato did not notice the threat in his words. A child could drive a man to great lengths, the likes of which caused Minato to agree to kill Danzō in the first place. With three clans backing him, Inoya was a dangerous man, and Minato hoped, for the one thousand second time that day, that Kakashi was right about who he would be dangerous to. “Of course, I have a clan behind me, which makes my answer different than yours. The rest of the government just threw you into the lion’s den, didn’t they?”

Minato knew there was an intimidation attempt hidden in his advice introduction. But, after the events not twelve hours prior, Minato did not have it in him to be anymore so.

“I have a clan,” continued Inoya. “So, my answer, if I was in your place, would be to find strength in them. Do you have people you trust—really trust? People with more experience than you?”

“I do.” For better or for worse, Minato placed his trust in them in a way that could not be taken back. At the very least, Minato knew that if Jiraiya ever ever betrayed Konoha’s interests, then they were all lost. “Perhaps I do not have a clan, but I have those.”

“Then, I would keep them close. And, particularly depending on what we continue to hear, I would think very hard about who you pick as Danzō’s successor.” With a mirthless smile, Inoya turned to look at the interrogation room through the glass. “It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it?”

“I have a feeling it will be,” said Minato. “Thank you. For the wisdom.”

Respectfully, Inoya nodded, and after giving a tired sigh, Inoya turned back towards the door. However, before he turned the doorknob, he looked back over his shoulder. “Should you need anything, Yondaime, know that the Yamanaka clan has your back.”

Nodding courteously back, Minato hoped, for the thousand third time that day, that Kakashi Hatake knew what he was doing.

* * *

 

On their third night in the Akatsuki’s new bunker, just as Kakashi and Tsunade were walking back to the room after their sparring session (she decided blood was no longer off the table during their sparring session, from which Kakashi was growing very injured but also very proud), Kakashi picked up a flurry of sharp voices, despite the lateness of the hour.

“Do you hear that?” he whispered to Tsunade.

She shook her head. “What is it?”

“I think it’s Yahiko and Konan.” Weighing his options, Kakashi tried to pick up what of their conversation he could. After a few moments, he realized that he was not going to hear anything substantial from this distance and beckoned her forwards. “Come this way. _Quietly_.”

Kakashi did not dare get too close, just in case Nagato was watching out for them or they were just particularly perceptive that evening. Instead, he just led Tsunade about one hallway closer. Tsunade still could not make out any words, but he could at least make out some, which he hastily repeated back to her.

“—I can’t believe you,” said Konan, nearly hissing in a heated whisper. “This is everything we stand against, and you know it.”

“If you think I’m going to stand aside and let them hurt you—” began Yahiko.

As if realizing they were being overheard, their voices dropped so low that it was only as audible as an incoherent, humming sound. Kakashi was worried that was all he would get until Konan said, “This is insane. I know what happened was—”

There was another pause of untranslatable speech. “You have to look at the big picture,” said Yahiko. “Can’t you see that we can make it happen?”

Another pause. “—happened?” finished Konan, from a phrase Kakashi did not understand.

“I’m doing this for you,” said Yahiko. “And for Nagato, and for this organization, and for the fate of the world. How could you even doubt where my priorities are?”

“Yahiko, I love you. I really, really do. But—”

Another pause. “—wasn’t wrong,” said Yahiko. “Power lies—”

“Is that what this is about?” asked Konan, outraged. “Power?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. But, let’s be honest with ourselves, if the last couple days has taught us anything, is that we have _no_ —” The rest of his sentence was lost in a mumble. “—if all we do is get slaughtered, then we might as well not have started this organization.”

After a final pause, the door sharply opened, causing the hinges to give a rapid squeak. The lone, thudding footsteps of Konan exited the room and towards the direction of their hallway. Eyes wide and hearts racing, Kakashi and Tsunade walked back to their room before either Konan or Yahiko noticed.

Just before Kakashi could open the door of their bedroom, Tsunade stopped him. “Do you remember what I told you?” she asked. “Back when we were here the first time, about doing what we have to?”

“After that night?” he asked. _If anything starts to go south_ , she’d said. _We have to kill them._ She nodded. “I do.”

“Just keep that in mind.”

“Do you remember what I said?” he asked. _If something goes down, it won't be me you have to convince._ Once again, she nodded. “Then, keep that in mind, too.”

They woke Jiraiya and, once he was awake enough to comprehend their words, filled him in on what Kakashi overheard. An uneasy feeling followed their explanation and thrived in their ensuing silence.

“What do you think it means?” she asked, after neither of the men spoke.

Jiraiya smiled mirthlessly. “It means we suddenly have no idea what’s going to happen.”

* * *

 

As was agreed, they returned to Konoha with Danzō’s body after five days, shortly before midnight, so they would not run into anyone. Jiraiya awoke Minato (though he had not actually been asleep, instead reading a book on his couch, as he knew they would return), and all of them met at Minato’s office. Both Minato and the three that remained in the Rain assured the other party that everything went more or less according to plan, before Minato told them that he would take the body to the morgue and instructed them to get some rest. The daimyō was in town for the occasion, and the council was desperate to know, so they needed to have the debrief first thing in the morning.

Exhausted, none of the three objected. Tsunade and Jiraiya went straight home, took a quick shower, and collapsed in their beds. However, Kakashi stayed up a moment longer. He stealthily picked a white flower on the way back to his place, and once he entered, he placed it on the floor of his living room. His place was empty (once they feigned leaving a little less than a week ago, Kakashi had Minato ask Mikoto if she would babysit the boys until his return), so he felt no need to hide, and he drew the symbol for the number seven on his living room wall.

“Sasuke,” was all he said, kneeling down in front of the flower. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

 

The meeting the next morning was small, as expected. The daimyō and a couple of his men were there, as was Minato, the Third Hokage, and the two remaining members of the council. At the front of the room, Jiraiya stood, while Tsunade and Kakashi sat at the back.

Like they did in the Rain, they let Jiraiya do nearly all of the talking. He was best suited for it, and all of them felt it seemed more legitimate. After all, Kakashi and Tsunade being there in the first place seemed almost like an accident, as Kakashi was just an apprentice and Tsunade was a wild card.

So, Jiraiya fed them their made-up version of the events. Hanzō killed Danzō, he explained, for reasons they had yet to understand. Most likely, it was an attempt of gathering information, hence the burning of the ROOT hideout, to deter any thieves. After a few days of tracking, they found his body in the Rain.

There was a slight bit of discussion on what needed to be done once he was finished. However, it did not last long. Everyone agreed that it was a matter best left for a few days time, once they sat on the information for long enough and funeral arrangements were made. So, they adjourned, and everyone rose from their seats.

“A word in the Hokage’s office, you three,” said the Third Hokage to Minato, Jiraiya, and Tsunade, so low that the others shuffling out of the meeting room could not hear. “Kakashi, why don’t you go home?”

“No,” said Minato quickly—too quickly. Snapping his eyes over to him, Kakashi silently disagreed with his ruling. “No, he stays.”

The Third narrowed his eyes and locked his jaw. “I really must insist—”

“He _stay_ s,” said Minato, with a finality in his voice that made it clear he was not open to negations, from either Kakashi or the Third.

Though their heads did not turn, Jiraiya and Tsunade exchanged a look out of the corner of their eyes. Unbeknownst to the other, they both tensed up, readying for an altercation.

The moment they entered the office and Minato shut the door behind them, the Third turned to them, hatred in his eyes. “I know the four of you killed Danzō.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, we finally hit the plot. Reviews make Danzō’s death that much sweeter. Speaking of sweet...
> 
>  **Fun Fact of the Chapter:** Back in our early stages of planning, we thought we would keep Danzō alive much longer. At some point, though, we realized we were just making excuses for him to survive various circumstances, despite all odds, and he kept throwing a wrench in all our plans. So, we just decided to kill him _really_ early on. Because of all the grief he caused us, we joked that when we killed off Danzō, we were going to get a cake to celebrate. But, that was a long time ago, and now we're adults who have jobs and things to save for and don't even live in the same city as one another. However, as writing a Naruto, time-traveling epic would suggest, we are not _responsible_ adults, so Laser Beam left from work late and drove _three hours_ to Chicken Train's place, where Chicken Train had a cake—that she placed an order for well in advance and paid real-ass money for—waiting. See below.
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